


all the small things

by shieldmaidenofrohan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: All my tumblr prompts and drabbles, And a little bit of, Baby Avengers, Fluff, Happy MCU, Hurt/Comfort, I suck at chapter titles but I TRY!, It's basically gonna be, M/M, SAVAGE TONY, SO MUCH DE-AGING!, all kinds of AUs here folks!, and humor, but mostly happiness, doctor!AU, firefighter!au, he's the Alpha damn it, very little angst here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 145
Words: 124,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldmaidenofrohan/pseuds/shieldmaidenofrohan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of my SteveTony tumblr prompts and drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The one where... Steve's in a salty sort of mood, but there's sweetness all around in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "imagine person a of your otp switching the sugar out with salt before person b is awake. person b makes their coffee before so much as glancing in person a’s general direction, as usual, and dumps a butt load of “sugar” into their coffee before drinking it. person a is fighting back laughter and tears until they realize person b is giving them a death glare while they gulp down their entire 16 oz. cup of salty coffee without skipping a beat because they are the alpha and what is weakness."
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

In hindsight, it’s pretty obvious why Steve does it.

Because as much as he likes pretending to be annoyed, he actually thinks it’s adorable how fixated Tony is on his morning coffee. He’s the most un-morning person Steve has ever known, and no matter how much Steve coaxes him into interacting with the rest of the team over the breakfast table-- or at least acknowledging their existence-- he has yet to witness Tony breathe a word to anyone before downing one or two large mugs of scalding coffee.

But Steve thinks it’s high time for his genius to learn a lesson or two.

\- - - - - - - - - -

He takes advantage of his early rising-- it’s a habit he’s not sure he’ll ever unlearn, no matter how tempting it is when Tony, soft and warm from sleep, purrs at Steve to _stick around for a little morning nookie, baby_ , even though his eyes are barely open-- to stop by the kitchen on his way out for his morning run.

He turns on the coffeemaker, brings down all of his team’s mugs from the cupboards, and takes out the bowl of sugar.

And then dumps its contents in the sink.

He can’t help the bright grin on his face as he looks for the salt and pours it into the now empty bowl, because Steve’s pretty sure he knows exactly how this is gonna go down, and he can’t wait to see Tony’s face.

He leaves everything out and ready, and then sends a mass text as he leaves the tower, to everyone but his boyfriend: 

_Coffee’s ready in the kitchen. DON’T use the “sugar” in the bowl. - S_

He does his run a little faster, partly because he’s feeling particularly energized, but definitely because he wants to be there when Tony wakes up.

Sure enough, only his and Tony’s mugs are left on the counter, but Steve goes up to their room instead, smiling at the sight of his lover splayed out under their covers. He’s in and out the shower in five minutes, and once he’s dressed, he kneels by the bed and pulls the sheets off Tony’s head.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he whispers, running a hand through the brunet’s soft, sleep-tousled hair. “Up and at ‘em...”

Tony barely moves, but the rough groan that leaves him lets Steve know he’s been heard.

“If you’re awake and downstairs in five, I’ll have your coffee ready. And maybe I’ll even make French toast.”

“ _Ngghhh._ ”

“Five minutes,” he kisses Tony’s temple, and leaves the room.

Four minutes later, Steve has to hold back his excited chuckles when Tony stumbles into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he says, maybe a little too eager, but just as expected, Tony doesn’t even spare him a glance. His eyes are barely open but he clearly knows where everything is by now, because he walks up to the counter his mug is sitting on, grabs the spoon in the sugar bowl, and dumps three spoonfuls into his coffee.

By the time Tony lets out a loud sigh as he stirs his mug, Steve’s shoulders are shaking from his efforts to keep his laughter inside. 

But then Tony brings the mug to his lips, and takes a sip.

There’s a moment of absolute silence as he sees Tony’s eyes widen in realization, and then Steve _just loses it_. He lets out a giggle that turns to a laugh, that turns into great, big guffaws that leave him breathless and crying into the counter. 

Then he looks back up, and stops.

Because Tony hasn’t spit out the mug’s contents, and Steve can only stare in awe as the brunet keeps drinking, staring at Steve with every gulp until he’s downed it all. 

“Oh my god,” Steve breathes, but doesn’t have time to say anything else before Tony strides over to where he’s standing and shoves his tongue down Steve’s throat.

He’s returning the kiss before he even realizes-- it’s a reflex at this point, really, because there will never be a time where he has Tony’s lips on his and he won’t kiss back-- but pulls away with a grimace a second later.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Not usually the response I get from you,” Tony’s wide awake now, for sure, and Steve is quick to wrap his arms around the brunet’s waist. 

“I didn’t mean it like _that._ ”

“I know,” Tony replies with an eye roll. “But it fucking serves you right after the shit you just pulled.”

“I thought it’d be funny,” Steve says. “It was. Mostly.”

“It was _sacrilegious_ , you ass. I can’t believe they let you be Captain America--”

“It’s ‘cause I’m such a good man--”

“That’s funny--”

“And I’ve got a good heart--”

“Not seeing it right now, honey--”

“-- even if it belongs to a man in a tin can now--”

“Tin can?” Tony deadpans, but his eyes soften as they meet Steve’s. In the morning light, he looks so beautiful that it takes Steve’s breath away, and he almost leans in to kiss Tony again.

Almost.

Because he still has the taste of coffee and salt in his mouth, and it’s almost bad enough to gag.

“I have no idea how you managed to swallow all of that, by the way.”

“That’s what he said,” Tony snickers, then he’s laughing into Steve’s shoulder and Steve is laughing into Tony’s hair, and it’s not really any more funny than some of the things he usually says, but Steve can’t help the warmth and love that bubbles up inside every time he sees Tony happy.

“Learned your lesson, then?” he asks, when their chuckles finally fade into silence.

Tony lifts an eyebrow in challenge. “Nothin’ to learn, apple pie. That wasn’t even in the top ten of the worst things I’ve put in my mouth. 'sides, I’m the Alpha-- I have no weakness.”

“Really?” Steve hums. “‘Cause I have it on very good authority that the great Tony Stark does have one or two things he’s a bit of a sucker for.” He tightens his hold on Tony’s waist until their chests are fully pressed together.

“That a fact?” Tony asks, then breathes out a moan when Steve noses the skin right beneath his ear. “Wanna-- _ahh, right there, baby_ \-- wanna tell me what I’m a sucker for? Y’know, other than the obvious,” he says, and then it’s Steve’s turn to suck in a breath when Tony’s hand slips in between them, palming Steve’s cock through his sweatpants.

“Tony--” he gasps, pulling the brunet’s hands by the wrists, breathing a little easier as Tony lifts them up the rest of the way, bringing them atop Steve’s shoulders.

“You were saying?” 

“Um, I was.... uh--”

“Lost your train of thought, there?” Tony teases, and just like that, Steve’s mind clears up a little. He’s Captain America, the man with the plan, damn it.

And he doesn’t lose.

“In your d-dreams,” he can’t help but stutter, though, when Tony fiddles with the hair on his nape of his neck. So Steve leans in to take a not-so-gentle nip at his boyfriend’s neck, soothing it a second later with a wet swipe of his tongue. “Word ‘round town’s that you’re sweet on certain red, white, and blue-clad fella.”

"Oh my god," Tony groans, "put the fucking Brooklyn voice away."

"Don' wanna."

"Steve,” this time, Toy almost whimpers.

"Hush. I was sayin'--"

" _Jesus_ \--"

"-- that apparently you’re pretty sweet on this guy, and his voice--"

"You bastard--"

"And his mouth."

" _Ohhhh._ "

"And his hands," Steve slips his under Tony's shirt, caressing the warm muscles on his back.

"Yeah," Tony sighs, arching his spine, and both of them let out a breath when it brings them even closer together.

"Anything else?"

Tony nods. "His heart. Since it seems I, y'know... have it."

"You do," Steve whispers, and then lifts his head from Tony's neck so their eyes meet again. "Always will."

"Fuck," Tony's voice shakes, big brown eyes running over every part of Steve's face like he suddenly can't get enough of him. "You are just..."

"Just what?"

"Fucking-- I don't know... _everything_ ," Tony says, and kisses Steve.

It's not the kind of kiss Steve's expecting, because things had been building up to something hot and heavy, and more than a little dirty. 

But this kiss is slow and soft, sweet in a way that never fails to make Steve feel like they're almost glowing with love. It's less intense than what they’d been doing up to that point, but all the more meaningful because of it.

"Okay," Steve says, when they pull away, "I love you, but you need to rinse your mouth."

Tony gives him a smug grin. "See? I'm not the weak one, Rogers. Suck it up and be a man."

"I'm man enough to admit I'm too weak to enjoy salt in coffee, so excuse me, Mr. Alpha."

"You weak for anything else?"

"Um,” Steve pretends to think. “Not something... Some _one_.”

" _Aaaaand_ you stop right there. I can fucking _feel_ the sap coming a mile away."

"You like sap, Tony."

"I also like having a functioning heart, which might skip itself all the way to the grave if you keep it up."

"Sweetheart, it's already up," Steve smirks, rolling his hips into Tony's, and the genius chokes on a laugh.

"Oh my god, I fucking love you,” he gasps, then his smile turns lecherous. "And you know how hot it get me when you talk dirty, so forget the coffee, babe-- lets go back to bed."

"It's time for breakfast..." Steve says, but trails off when Tony leans in again, licking and mouthing and sucking his neck. And just like that, the heat is back.

"Come on," Tony whispers. "I wanna be in you--"

"Oh god, _Tony_ \--"

"Or you can fuck me if you want, it’s fine, I just need you back in our bed."

"Oh... fine," Steve moans.

"You know, this is the _group_ kitchen, guys,” he hears, and they both turn to see Clint leaning against the entrance, looking utterly unimpressed.

"Yeah, well this is _my_ tower," Tony shoots back. “So... my kitchen, my rules."

"Tony--" Steve starts.

"No, you're right, wasting time," he says, and then grabs Steve by the wrist and gives the archer a jaunty salute.

"Where're you guys going?" Clint asks.

Steve just lets himself be pulled towards the elevator, smiling as Tony smirks and winks when he passes Clint.

"Gonna go show my fella just how sweet I really am for him."


	2. The one where… Steve and Tony are both saps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sleep-deprived Tony in the lab singing (screeching) holding out for a hero with DUM-E not realizing that other people have entered the lab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, this one's short, but sweet... :)

It probably happens because he hasn’t heard the song in years. 

Tony has an almost infinite music library, and there are songs he knows he’s never even heard in there somewhere, but then one day, while he’s in the workshop he looks up and _drop my needle, J, knock yourself out._

When “ _Holding Out For A Hero_ ” begins playing sometime later, he’s so into his work that he only hums the tune at first, but it’s not long before he’s mumbling the words, and then before he knows it, he’s screeching the words out into the empty workshop.

DUM-E and Butterfingers and You beep in approval from their stations–- of course it’s approval, what else would it be? Tony’s a fucking _fantastic_ singer–- and the tempo rises and rises; in seconds it feels like the whole room is just bursting from the music.

“ _He’s gotta be sure and it’s gotta be soon,_ ” Tony lifts a wrench to his face like a microphone, “ _and he’s gotta be larger than life_! Take it away, Dummy!” he yells, laughing when his robot beeps and whirrs and rolls this way and that.

And when the final notes end, Tony stands there in the middle of all his creations, grinning and panting like a lunatic. “That felt good,” he sighs.

It did,” he hears, and jumps when two strong arms come out from behind to wrap themselves around his waist. But he recognizes those arms immediately, so he just leans back and hums contently.

“How much did you see?”

“Enough to make my day,” Steve says, pressing a kiss at the base of Tony’s spine.

“God,” Tony sighs, “if I’d known you were gonna be such a sap when we started all this–”

“We’re having a moment, don’t ruin it.”

Tony chuckles. “Gonna shut me up, then?”

“Nope,” Steve says, and turns him around so their eyes meet. “I’ve got something better in mind.”

“Always the man with the plan, huh?” Tony teases, smiling into the kiss Steve pulls him into.

“You know it. JARVIS, take it away,” Steve says, and when a new song starts–-

“Sinatra, really?” Tony groans, “I know you know there’s more music out there than your grandpa songs, baby.”

“Ha ha,” Steve rolls his eyes, but pulls him closer, and then they’re dancing again around the space Tony just rocked out in. Steve spins him away and brings him back in, and they’re not moving in time with the music for some reason– always a beat or two behind– but it doesn’t matter because Steve keeps humming and chuckling at their antics, and his eyes are bright and clear and _so fucking blue_.

It might just be the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen.

“ _‘Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight… Just the way you look tonight,_ ” Steve whispers against Tony’s temple, when the music fades back into silence, and Tony isn’t even going to deny the sudden burning in his eyes.

“I’m glad I don’t have to hold out for my hero anymore,” he whispers into Steve’s shoulder, and grins knowingly when it starts shaking.

“Who’s the sap now?” Steve asks, voice light and happy and everything Tony’s ever wanted him to be.

“Both of us,” he answers, and lifts his head until his forehead meets the blond’s.

“Alright,” Steve closes his eyes. “I can live with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, and check out my tumblr at captainstarkreportingforduty! :)


	3. The one where… Steve is jealous of JARVIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "AU where Steve and Tony are neighbours in a building. They notice each other, flirt a little, go to the laundry spontaneously at the same time. Steve thinks he's in the game when HE HEARS TONY TALKING WITH A GUY NAMED JARVIS THROUGH THE WALL. He thinks Tony's AI is his boyfriend. And when Tony still hits on him shamelessly, he says 'What about Jarvis?'"
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

The first time Steve sees his new neighbor, he trips up the building’s front steps. 

He scrapes his knees and one of his arms, but they still don’t burn more than Steve’s cheeks do when he catches the other man grinning– all tousled hair and eyes so big and brown, Steve can see them all the way from where he stands.

“Well,” the man says, leaning against a stack of moving boxes, “that sure boosted my ego.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Steve finds himself smirking, even as his heart skips a beat when the man just raises an eyebrow. 

“You just did it for me, gorgeous. Thanks for the welcome,” he winks.

Steve rolls his eyes as he enters the building, and then smiles when he hears the man’s laughter follow him inside.

The second time Steve sees his new neighbor, they introduce themselves in the hall between Steve’s door and Tony’s.

“Knees still sore?” Tony asks with a smug smile.

Steve blushes but doesn’t look away. “Just fine, thanks for asking.”

“Anytime, darling. Seemed like a pretty nasty fall.”

“Oh pipe down,” Steve rolls his eyes, a little surprised at the easiness with which he says it. They’ve only just met, but there’s something comforting about Steve’s new neighbor, even in the teasing and the wicked grins that are already driving him crazy.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Things only get better from there.

Because a month passes, and then another, and Steve’s life quickly becomes a whirlwind of morning chats in his kitchen and late night talks in Tony’s. He meets Pepper and Natasha and Rhodey for a Saturday night dinner, and then brings Bucky, Clint and Sam over to meet Tony for brunch on Sunday.

The flirting doesn’t stop–- and Tony has absolutely no shame; some of the things he says leave Steve hot and hard, with a want so deep it leaves him breathless–- but it’s tempered by the soft smiles, the quiet laughs they share when they find each other in the laundry room at the same time, when they leave trails of bright sticky notes full of jokes and jabs on each other’s door.

And Steve’s pretty sure they’re on their way to something deeper and closer, something _more_.

Until one day, when he’s in the middle of enjoying a night in to draw-– at the end of the day, no matter what, Steve can always unwind with his sketchbook and pencils-– and Tony’s voice comes in through the walls, loud and clear and so excited that Steve is helpless to stop his lips from curling up.

But then he hears another voice, smooth and British and new. And then Tony says _good to have you back, Jay_ -– sounding happier than he has in the months they’ve known each other–- and Steve suddenly feels a little less bright inside.

He tries to think about it more rationally in the morning. Tony’s never mentioned having a significant other, or even a roommate, but it doesn’t make him feel better. And when he goes through the rest of the day without seeing Tony, only to hear the two voices chatting comfortably again at night, he has to work harder to smother the disappointment bubbling inside.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Tony doesn’t mention his new friend or invite Steve over to introduce him in the weeks that follow; he’s the same gorgeous, brilliant, funny guy Steve’s pretty sure he might be half in love with. And even though he makes sure to keep up the smiles and jokes they’ve got going, his heart’s just not as into it.

Which is why he’s more than surprised when Tony asks him out.

“What?” he has to ask again, just to make sure.

“Gonna make me say it again, huh?” Tony shuffles his feet, hands tapping his chest and the side of his thigh, like he can’t stand still for a single moment. “Fine… only because you’re so damn pretty–”

“Tony.”

“Right. So,” he takes a breath, “you, me, date?”

“What about your boyfriend?” Steve blurts, before he knows what he’s doing.

Tony furrows his brow. “My what?” 

“Jarvis,” Steve says, “your boyfriend? Or maybe he’s not, but it sounds like you really care about him.”

“Wait,” Tony holds up a hand, “how do you know about Jarvis?”

“The, uh… the walls are sort of thin? And I’d never eavesdrop, but it’s pretty easy to hear you two talking all the time.”

“You think… me and _Jarvis_?”

Steve swallows the lump in his throat. “Isn’t he?”

“Oh my god,” Tony breathes, and Steve starts when he feels the brunet’s hand circle his wrist. “Is that why– never mind, thank god we’re doing this now, you’re so precious.”

“Tony–-”

“Nope, come on,” he pulls Steve in the direction of his apartment.

“Where are we going?”

“To meet Jarvis,” Tony smiles at him over his shoulder, but almost stumbles when Steve pulls back.

“I don’t…” Steve looks down so he can’t see the pity in Tony’s eyes. “I don’t think I can… I get it, it’s okay, you don’t have to, uh, introduce us. I can’t imagine he’ll be eager to meet me if he finds out about… everything,” he says, and god, his face is burning now.

“Jesus,” Tony groans. “We’re gonna laugh about this later, really. But trust me, you need to meet him.”

“I’m not-–”

“You’re lucky I’m the most stubborn son of a bitch you’ll ever meet, otherwise we’d never get anywhere. Now _trust me_ , damn it. Please?”

Steve sighs, nodding, and then feels his breath catch Tony intertwines their fingers.

The apartment is empty when they go in, but Tony just keeps pulling him until they’re standing in the middle of the room.

“JARVIS?” he calls out, and Steve jumps when the soft, English voice he’s heard for weeks is suddenly just _there_.

“Yes, sir?”

“J, meet Steve. Steve, meet JARVIS–- my AI.”

_Oh._

“Not my boyfriend,” Tony raises an eyebrow pointedly, and just like that, Steve feels the rush of heat that’s so familiar when Tony’s involved.

“Oh,” he breathes out, relief, embarrassment and surprise running through him all at once. Then he opens his mouth and–-

“Is your offer still open, then?”

Tony’s grin is utter _sin_. “You bet your sweet, gorgeous ass it is. But right now,” he steps up until he’s pressed against Steve’s chest, “I really wanna fucking kiss you.”

Steve breathes out a laugh, but wraps his arms around the brunet. It pushes them even closer together, and Tony lets out a soft groan, grinding his hips slightly against Steve’s. “Go for it,” Steve says.

“Thank fuck,” Tony mutters, grabs Steve’s face in his hands, and touches Steve’s lips with his.

It’s slow and warm, and Tony’s lips taste like coffee and mint, a delicious combination that makes Steve lose track of how long the kiss lasts, but when finally Tony pulls away, they’re almost panting.

“I was… I was getting a little worried about you, y’know,” Tony whispers, and runs his thumb over Steve’s cheeks. “Your eyes haven’t been as blue lately.”

“I thought…” Steve shrugs, and Tony just hums fondly.

“Yeah, I probably should’ve told you sooner, sorry–”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss on his cheek. “No, this isn’t your fault, I could’ve just asked, instead of assuming.”

“True,” Tony’s still grinning from both kisses, “so I forgive you. At least you can make it up to me now, so yay for that,” he cheers, resting his hands on Steve’s chest.

“How does tomorrow night sound, then?” Steve asks, and now he’s smiling too because he still feels a little ridiculous for being so maudlin and jealous, but now it’s just Steve and Tony and _everything_ ahead of them.

“Sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, and check out my tumblr at captainstarkreportingforduty! :)


	4. The one where... Tony likes High School Musical, and Steve likes Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I run the night slot on campus radio and some jackass keeps calling in to insult my music taste and request high school musical songs instead."
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“… And that was Billie Holiday’s wonderful ‘ _I’ll Be Seeing You_ ’– a personal favorite of mine, hope you all enjoyed it. A big thank you, by the way, to everyone out there tuning in to our Golden Oldies hour here on SHIELD-U’s 98.5. I, uh, know it might be a little strange listening to big band when it’s almost midnight, but obviously there’s more than one or two of you listening, otherwise the school would’ve shut me down in a jiffy,” Steve chuckles, and then looks up to see Natasha making a phone sign across the glass.

“And we’ve got someone on the line right now,” he says, pressing the red flashing button in front of him to open the call. “Remember, you guys can always call in and request anything you’d like to hear. You’re on the air, caller.”

“ _Your music makes me sleepy_ ,” someone says, and _oh_.

Steve knows that voice. 

Going by the smirk on Natasha’s face, she knows it too.

“I think anything will make you sleepy at midnight,” he replies.

“ _Maybe for the masses, yeah. But sleep’s the last thing I need, and all your Betty Holiday–_ ”

“Billie Holiday–”

“ _–whatever, it isn’t helping._ ”

“It’s Golden Oldies hour, Mr. Stark.”

“ _I keep telling you, sweetheart– it’s Tony._ ”

Steve can’t keep his cheeks from flushing, or his lips from curling up. “Well, you can always switch over to 103.7,” he says, “the Odinson brothers have a heavy rock station that actually runs all night, if that’s more your thing.”

“ _I bet they don’t sound as hot as you do, though,_ ” Tony purrs, “ _even if you’ve got the musical tastes of a nonagenarian._ ”

“Then how ‘bout you tell me something you’d like to hear?”

“ _Aside from the sound of your voice saying my name?_ ”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s still blushing– people are hearing this, damn it, he’s sure Sam and Bucky will be laughing their asses off when he gets home– and he’s still smiling. “I meant music, Mr. Stark.”

“ _It was worth a try,_ ” Tony mumbles, then, “ _I want to hear ‘We’re All In This Together’._ ”

“Still hung up on High School Musical, huh? But I’m not playing anything from this century yet. Call back in…” Steve looks up at the clock, “about half an hour.”

“ _You better believe I will, buddy._ ”

“Until then, how about I speed things up for ya with Glenn Miller’s ‘In The Mood’?”

Tony’s chuckle is low and a little rough. “ _Tryin’ to get_ me _in the mood?_ ”

“Half an hour, Mr. Stark,” Steve says, and ends the call.

He ends up playing half the album for the next hour, because even though Tony only requests one song, they get six more callers requesting the rest of them.

———————–

Now, Steve’s never met Tony Stark, but in the three weeks since he first called the station to insult Steve’s choice of songs– and after the fourth time in one week that Tony called in during Golden Oldies hour, this time to complain about how anyone could ever willingly listen to Artie Shaw, Steve was pretty convinced he was doing it on purpose– he’s thought, more than once, to ask if they could.

But he’s enjoying this sort of anonymity more than he probably should, even though Tony doesn’t hold back on mocking Steve’s enthusiasm for big band records. He’s not bothered by anything Tony says, and there’s always something fond and playful in his voice when he talks to Steve.

(It helps that Nat tells him their ratings have been climbing steadily ever since his calls with Tony started, especially during Golden Oldies hour.)

So Steve smothers the urge to tell Tony he’d like to see him in person, and instead plays along every time the man calls to ask if _instead of subjecting your poor listeners to your usual torture, could you please play "Getcha Head In The Game", darling?_

And it seems like things are going to stay that way, until the night they don’t.

“A very late ‘good night’ to you, caller,” Steve says, when he answers the incoming call.

“ _I have a request._ ”

Steve doesn’t hide his grin, or his sigh. “Got something new for me this time, Mr. Stark?"

“ _Maybe, _” Tony hums. “ _Can I tell you what I’d like to hear?_ ”__

__“That’s why you called, isn’t it?”_ _

__“ _So sassy tonight,_ ” Tony mutters, and then, “ _anyway, my request is… for you to say yes._ ”_ _

__“…Yes to what?”_ _

__“ _To meeting up with me tonight– not_ right now _tonight, obviously, this next tonight. Later on today, I mean. At night. God, I need to sleep, it’s been fifty plus hours but I stayed up ‘cause I really wanted to hear your voice, and obviously I wanted to ask you out too… People are listening to this, aren’t they? Jesus, of course they are, stop me please–_ ”_ _

__“Yes,” Steve blurts out, and his heart feels like it’s beating too fast, like its two sizes too big. “Yeah, yes, okay.”_ _

__Tony’s tired laughter just makes his skin warmer all over. “ _Awesome, yay, go us– I don’t know what I’m saying anymore, I can barely keep my eyes open._ ”_ _

__“How ‘bout a little ‘ _Moonlight Serenade_ ’ to close down the hour then?”_ _

__“ _That’ll definitely put me to sleep._ ”_ _

__“Alright,” Steve chuckles. “Here you go, folks– last song of Golden Oldies hour, Glenn Miller’s ‘ _Moonlight Serenade_ ’. And don’t forget to keep calling in your requests, ‘cause I’ve still got another hour to go.”_ _

__He starts the song and then switches the call to private. “You still there, Tony?”_ _

__“ _Barely,_ ” he hears. “ _I’m gonna hit the hay, just wanted to, y’know… talk. Meet you in front of Carter Hall at seven, ‘kay?_ ”_ _

__“Sounds like a date,” Steve whispers, and Tony hums happily._ _

__“ _Perfect._ ”_ _

__The rest of his shift is almost a blur because all Steve can think about is that he might have a date with someone he’s never met. And yeah, maybe he should be at least a little apprehensive, but there’s just something about it all that makes him happy._ _

__And it seems he’s not the only one, because the next call he gets, he barely gets a word in before–_ _

__“ _Hi, I’m Sharon and ohmygosh, I’m so happy you and Tony are finally meeting, your conversations always make me laugh and really, you guys should’ve gotten together a long time ago I can’t believe it’s taken you this long–_ ”_ _

__“Th–thank you Sharon,” Steve stammers, and he’s so glad only Natasha can see how hard he’s blushing. “Did you, uh, want to request a song?_ _

__“ _Nope!_ ” is the bright reply._ _

__“Oh. Okay? I… I’m gonna let you go now–”_ _

__“ _Okay,_ ” Sharon giggles, “ _thanks for talking and I love all your music by the way, oh my god, make sure to tell Tony you’re not the only big band fan, bye!_ ”_ _

__The call ends before he can say anything else, and Steve has to take a breath before he leans into the microphone again. “Alright, so uh, that was…. yeah. Have some Coldplay now, here on SHIELD-U’s very own 98.5.”_ _

__He pulls off his headphones and practically runs to the other room, where Natasha’s just spinning in her chair and whistling nonchalantly._ _

__“That actually happened, right?” he asks. He has to make sure._ _

__Natasha smirks. “Finally pulled your head out of your ass, thank god.”_ _

__Steve can’t help the grin that settles on his face, and he thinks he might love big band just a little bit more now._ _

__\- - - - - - - - - -_ _

__“ _Holy shit._ ”_ _

__Steve’s been pacing the front Carter hall for about five minutes– even though it’s just turned seven– but at the new voice, he turns. His eyes meet Tony’s, and…_ _

__Well, now Steve’s pretty much thinking the same thing, too, because Tony is _beautiful_ , all dark, tousled hair, and big brown eyes that almost look gold beneath the glow of the street lamps._ _

__“Hi,” Steve breathes._ _

__“I was not expecting you to be so gorgeous, my god,” Tony grins._ _

__“Right back atcha,” Steve says, and takes a breath to calm his racing heart when he catches the faintest blush on Tony’s cheeks._ _

__The date is absolutely perfect._ _

__Tony takes Steve out for pizza and a night at the local arcade, because _you seriously need to get more into this century, gorgeous, and I’ll do it all by myself if I have to.__ _

__Steve is definitely not opposed to that._ _

__\- - - - - - -_ _

__One date turns to two, then five, until it’s three months later and they’re spending every other night together, and Steve knows he’s never liked another person this much._ _

__And when he catches Tony humming “ _The Way You Look Tonight_ ” six months later, he doesn’t think he ever will._ _

__(Steve knew it’d been all talk, anyway.)_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and check out my tumblr at captainstarkreportingforduty! :)


	5. The one where... Tony's got bedroom eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to a bed."
> 
> Warnigns: NONE (might be a little nsfw, though).

“If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to a bed.”

Tony grins, looking up at Steve from underneath his lashes. “You telling me Captain America can’t keep it in his pants for a couple more seconds?”

There’s a moment of silence, with only the low humming of the elevator as it climbs floor by floor to their penthouse, and then–

“Tony.”

“Yes?”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Tony asks. He arches his back against the elevator wall in a wanton stretch, so that it brings his chest an inch or two forward.

An inch or two closer to Steve.

“Like you…” Steve trails off, and his cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink that makes Tony’s skin grow even hotter all over. “Like you want to…”

“Can’t even say it?” Tony teases, then sucks in a breath when Steve pushes himself off the opposite wall and takes one step towards Tony.

Then another.

Then again.

And even though Steve’s tuxedo is as perfectly immaculate as it always is– the man wears anything as well as it can ever be worn, Jesus– his jacket is unbuttoned, as are the top two buttons of his white shirt, and Tony can see the long lines of Steve’s neck and the dark tie hanging under his collar. His bright blue eyes are now dark and steely, the heat inside obvious as he steps up into Tony’s space. He looks well on his way to being thoroughly debauched, and Tony’s suddenly glad no one else will be seeing him like this for the rest of the night.

A wedding night is only for two, after all.

“You want me to say it?” Steve whispers, and Tony stops breathing when their chests finally touch.

“Y-yeah,” he gasps, nodding his head maybe too enthusiastically, but everything is suddenly hotter and heavier and more. It feels fantastic.

“Then _stop looking at me like that_ ,” Steve whispers, and pulls away with a wicked grin.

“You are evil,” Tony says, when he can finally breathe again, and narrows his eyes.

“I try,” Steve chuckles. 

“The correct answer, though, is ‘yes, dear’– not a good way to start out this marriage, babe. Hasn’t even been a day, and you’re already slacking off.”

“It’s a little hard to think when you’re giving me those eyes.”

Tony smiles innocently. “What eyes?”

“Those… bedroom eyes,” Steve says, and runs a single finger down Tony’s chest, soft and slow and utterly _maddening_.

“Just trying to get prepared,” Tony replies, the words coming out a little rough. “I thought you’d appreciate that, Mr. ‘Star-Spangled Man With A Plan’.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Yeah, I’m already doing a better job at this husband schtick than you are–”

“This isn’t a contest, Tony.”

“Sure it’s not… If it was, though, I’d be winning.”

“Maybe. But I’m onto you now, Mr. Stark,” Steve smirks, and then he’s pressing Tony up against the elevator again, close enough that their noses brush against each other once, then twice. “And I don’t like to lose.”

“Bring it on, hubby,” Tony whispers against Steve’s lips, but just as he’s leaning in the rest of the way, the elevator jerks to a stop, doors opening to the dark silence of their living room.

“Right on time,” Steve says, and then Tony’s breath hitches when Steve’s hand finds his, their wedding rings clinking softly as their hands intertwine. “You said something about a bedroom?”

Tony stops him before he can pull them further into the hallway, and instead walks them over to the couch. “Sweetie. Cupcake. Gumdrop. Baby,” he drawls, pushing Steve down, and then climbs onto his lap.

“Yes, honey?” Steve’s smile is curious and indulgent and mischievous all at once.

“Tonight,” he whispers into Steve’s ear, and then gives it a gentle nip, “this whole fucking floor is our bedroom.”

Steve’s moan is perfection. “ _Oh god_ –”

“And I’m going to make love to you,” Tony moves down to his neck, “on every. Single. Surface.”

Steve whimpers one second, and then the next, he palms the back of Tony’s head to bring their lips together. It’s soft and slow, and everything they both live for when they’re together, but there’s also an intensity that’s never been there before.

Tony’s pretty sure that’s a result of them being newly married– and god, he’s so fucking hard right now, he’s seconds away from coming in his pants, but he thinks he might cry (again) at how that word makes him feel…

It’s like falling and flying, like breathing for the first time in his life, and nothing’s ever felt better.

“Guess… guess you were r-right about those bedroom eyes th-then, huh?” Steve stutters when they finally pull away, eyes still dark with desire.

“I’m always right,” Tony humphs, and rolls his hips into his husband’s.

“Yes, dear,” Steve sighs exaggeratedly, and Tony wraps his arms around the blond’s neck as they giggle like idiots.

“That’s more like it,” he says. “You’re a quick learner.”

“I’m a lot of things,” Steve replies, still grinning. “I’m a soldier,” he kisses Tony’s chin.

“An Avenger,” then Tony’s cheek.

“A sassy little shit,” this time it’s Tony who speaks, voice low and breathy.

“That too.”

“And a fucking awesome husband, so far.”

Steve pulls back. “Is that right?”

“The best, baby.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Any time, snickerdoodle– well, not _any_ time. Not _now_ , ‘cause we’ve got better things to do with our mouths.”

“You’re so impatient,” Steve says, but pulls Tony closer until their cocks brush against each other through their pants.

“Damn fucking right I am,” Tony groans. “God, we should be going at it like rabbits by now.”

“Tony, we just left the reception ten minutes ago.”

“We’ve done a hell of a lot more in less time, babe,” he says, and smiles when Steve grunts as he grinds down again.

“But we’ve got all night,” Steve reminds him with a smile of his own, leaning up to press his lips to Tony’s. “Hours and hours of you and me–”

“And nothin’ in between,” Tony leers, and pulls at Steve’s belt. “So chop chop, Captain, wanna see some skin.”

“I love you.”

Tony’s fingers freeze.

He’s pretty sure his heart does too. And his brain.

“Tony?”

“Yeah?” he blinks, and damn it, his eyes are burning. Again. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” Tony sniffles, buries his face into Steve’s neck and takes a shaky breath. Then another. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Hey–”

“Wait, just… _fuck_ ,” he mumbles, looking back up again.

Steve is still blurry, but his grin is almost blinding. “Tony–”

“Oh my god, why are you doing this to me?” Tony groans, wiping his tears. “This is your fault, y’know– I’m a fucking mess because of you.”

“All I said was ‘I love you.’”

“Yeah, but…” Tony breathes again and meets Steve’s eyes. “Fuck it, I’m a little emotional today, okay?”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Steve runs a hand up and down his back. “I’m pretty sure everyone saw my tears at the ceremony.”

“I fucking _heard_ them.”

“You did not.”

“There were sobs, and gasps. And wails,” Tony laughs, and it’s a little wet but he doesn’t care.

“Oh hush,” Steve jostles him. “I don’t mind everyone knowing how happy I am.”

“Jesus, okay look, you’re getting all lovey-dovey right now, which is great, it really is, but we’ve got our entire lives for that–”

“ _That_ was lovey-dovey.”

“Was it? Then how ‘bout this?” Tony leans in, putting his lips to Steve’s ear: “I want to rip every piece of clothing on your body right now, and then I want to lay you out on this couch– on the floor and the table, and the wall, on our bed– and lick every fucking inch of you. I want to blow you until you’re moaning and gasping my name, and then I want to work my fingers inside you, my mouth. And then, finally… I want to make love to you, over and over, until you forget everything but how it feels to have your husband’s cock filling you up.”

“Tony,” Steve moans, and then his hands are suddenly scrambling at Tony’s shirt, at his pants, at every part of him he can touch.

“How’s that for lovey-dovey?”

Steve just groans again, and keeps trying to rip their clothes from their bodies. “Get them off.”

“Who’s impatient now?” Tony laughs.

“ _Now_.”

“Oh fine,” he sighs, and then he’s yelping seconds later, when Steve flips him so that he’s lying across the couch, with a two-hundred pound blond covering him from head to toe.

“Better,” Steve whispers, a delicious looking smirk now settled firmly on his face. “And just so you know, I plan on returning the favor.”

“Wouldn’t expect any less from Captain America,” Tony moans.

“Good. Because I’m going to make you _scream my name_.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And check out my tumblr at captainstarkreportingforduty. :)


	6. The one where... Tony and Steve get engaged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: PROPOSAL! :)
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

When it happens, it's like very little of Tony's life has ever been-- easy.

(And despite everything they've been through, despite everything they still go through everyday, being with Steve is the easiest thing Tony's ever done, so he thinks it fitting.)

* - * - * - *

It's normal for Tony to get caught up in the numbers. Whether they’re business or superhero related, he's usually down and crunching in seconds, and this time it's no different-- there's arrow adjustments for Clint that are top priority, and then he has end of the quarter figures Pepper sent him for SI, and there's a glitch in Butterfinger's code that he can't figure out no matter how many times he types in the numbers, then he has tech specs for the new Stark phone--

" _...just wanna tell you how I'm feeling, gotta make you understand, never gonna give you up, nananana let you down..._ "

The soft lilting breaks through the chaos in Tony’s mind like very few things are able to these days, and when he looks up from his tablet, the sight is enough to make his heart skip a beat.

Because Steve is right there next to him, sitting on their bed with his back against the headboard; he's dressed in nothing but a plain white tee and black Stark Industries sweats, a sketchbook settled comfortably in his lap as he strokes a charcoal pencil over one of its pages. From where Tony is, he can't see what Steve's drawing, but whatever it is, it brings a smile so soft and warm to Steve's face, that Tony swallows once to get rid of the lump stuck in his throat. 

It's no different from the way he looks any other day, and why would he, when it’s Steve, who sits on their bed to sketch at least half an hour every night? Who hums cheesy 80's songs because they're catchy, because he knows how much they make Tony laugh? Steve, who wears Stark Industries attire proudly, even after the team had a good day’s laugh at his expense the first time he did it? Steve, who’s managed to sneak his way into Tony’s heart and light a fire that Tony knows he won’t ever be able to live without anymore.

Tony looks at him now, and the only thing he can think is--

"God, I want to marry you."

The words are as natural as everything in his brain has always come-- as natural as thinking and creating and breathing-- so he doesn’t notice he's said them out loud until Steve's pencil falls from his fingers, and that's when his brain catches up to him and _holy motherfucking shit_. 

His heart picks up speed almost immediately, but Tony takes his time in lifting his eyes to meet Steve's, and Jesus, they’re wide and bright and so fucking blue that something inside Tony just comes loose, like he's breaking and coming back together all at once. 

The next moment, he pushes his tablet away, kneels on the bed, and then practically jumps onto Steve's lap. He takes his hands-- and god, how are they not shaking when Tony's very being feels like it's about to explode?-- and cups his boyfriend's cheeks. Steve's breath hitches at the touch, and Tony just leans in even though he can barely feel the breath in his own lungs. "I said, I want to marry you," he whispers, lips just barely brushing Steve's.

There's a second of silence, then another, and then just as Tony’s about to pull back, one of Steve's hands comes up to encircle Tony's wrist, his soft skin burning like a brand around Tony's.

"Did you..." Steve breathes, and can't finish the rest when his eyes fill with tears.

"I did," Tony says, and grins. "Marry me, baby? Make me the happiest son of a bitch in the world?"

Steve is nodding before Tony’s even halfway through. "Shit, are you-- yeah, yes, oh my god, yes. I'll marry you sweetheart, of course I will, I'll marry the fuck out of you."

"Not _all_ of it, I hope," Tony says through his chuckles, and he doesn't care that they both probably look crazy from how hard they’re grinning. "Gotta save some of that fun for the years up ahead."

" _Years_... Oh god, Tony," Steve whispers, and when it comes out as a sob, Tony just leans in and kisses him.

"Say yes?" he asks when they pull away for air.

"I already did.” Steve’s chuckle is more than a little watery, but Tony doesn’t care. “Oh my god, I love you."

"I love you too, so fucking mu-- _ow_ ,” Tony winces, looking down at the sharp point digging into his ass. “Shit, I’m on top of your sketchbook, I’m ruining it.”

“I don’t care about my sketchbook right now, Tony, you can buy me a million of ‘em.”

“That was fast-- not even married yet, and you’re already after the big bucks.”

“‘What’s mine is yours’ and all that, right?” Steve’s smile is bright and playful.

“That comes _after_ I put a ring on it, babe. But now, I’m thinking I want a prenup,” Tony jokes, huffing out a laugh when Steve rolls his eyes.

“Can I talk you out of it if I tell you I want to spend the rest of my life with you?” he asks, and Tony’s heart skips a beat. “I want to eat, sleep, work, fight... everything. I want to do it all with you. You’re it for me, Tony. There’s never going to be anyone else.”

“Shouldn’t-- shouldn’t you be, y’know, saving this for the vows?” Tony doesn’t hide the way his voice breaks, but Steve just keeps smiling.

“I’ve already got half of them ready, honey. You’re gonna be a mess at the altar.”

Tony can’t fucking wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and check out my tumblr at captainstarkreportingforduty! :)


	7. The one where... Tony talks in his sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt (ask on tumblr): "GIVE ME A REASON IS MY STONY ANTHEM AND I WOULD JUST DIE IF YOU COULD MAYBE PLEASE WRITE A LITTLE FICLET INSPIRED BY THAT IT'S JUST SOMETHING I NEED."
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

The first time it happens, Steve bolts.

It’s not often that Tony talks in his sleep, and when he does, he usually just mumbles percentages and equations, and things that Steve doesn’t even bother trying to figure out.

But then one night, Steve wakes to the sound of Tony’s sleepy mutterings, and at first, he thinks it’s the same old thing. Until he hears Tony say _I love you_.

Steve smiles into Tony’s shoulder, a warm rush of affection running through him. He’s just about to press a kiss to Tony’s skin, though. when the genius opens his mouth and–

_Can’t do this anymore… Love you, but I can’t_.

“Tony,” Steve whispers immediately, rubbing his back. “Tony, wake–”

_No, Tony numbles, ‘m sorry, can’t be w’you anymore_.

Oh god.

Steve pulls away, and stops trying to wake Tony up. He almost falls off the bed in his haste to leave the room, a bitter lump at the back of his throat that doesn’t leave him for the rest of the night.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Maybe Tony wasn’t talking about him, Steve thinks the morning after.

He never actually said his name, it could’ve been anyone. He tries not to think about it that day, and the days after that. Tony doesn’t mention it and he doesn’t act any differently than he usually does, so Steve’s pretty sure he doesn’t remember. 

But Steve does.

Which makes the second and third times hurt a lot more.

Tony doesn’t say anything different, but the thought of the _can’t do this anymore_ and the _I’m sorry_ ’s being directed at Steve hit him like a punch in the gut.

And every time Tony wraps his arms around him during the day, every time Tony tells Steve he loves him, every time they make love to each other, Steve just can’t fucking forget those words no matter how hard he tries.

_Can’t do this anymore… I love you, but I can’t_.

So the doubts start coming; Steve tries to remember if he did something wrong, if he stopped paying attention to Tony or stopped reminding him that Steve loves him more than he’s ever loved anyone. But he can’t come up with anything, and that’s when he starts to wonder if maybe it’s not something he did.

Maybe it’s just _him_.

Because Steve still hasn’t forgotten every rejection from all the pretty dames back in the 40′s, hasn’t forgotten that he was never good enough, and even though he’s bigger now, and stronger and faster– even though he’s Captain America– maybe Steve Rogers still isn’t enough.

And Tony’s the most amazing person Steve’s ever met, brilliant and gorgeous and one of the kindest souls he knows– Tony could have anyone, and Steve wants to cry at the realization that maybe Tony’s figuring that out, too.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Three weeks after the first time, Steve finally breaks.

It’s just him and Tony in the living room, and every other minute, Steve will hear the brunet mumbling along as _The Hobbit_ plays on the giant screen. And even though he thinks he should be happy right now, relaxing next to the love of his life, he feels like crying instead.

“If I ask you a question,” he starts, “will you tell me the truth?”

“Mhmm ‘kay,”

“Are we good?”

Tony lifts his head from Steve’s chest. “What?”

“Is this…” Steve points between the two, “are we okay?”

“Why are you asking?” Tony’s sitting up now. 

There’s something in his voice that’s pulling at Steve’s heart, because he suddenly sounds hesitant and worried, and Steve decides that he’s just going to go for it.

He’s tired of feeling hurt.

“Do you not want to be with me anymore?” He asks, and his eyes are already blurry but he will not let the tears fall.

“What the fuck,” Tony gasps, pulling away, but Steve just keeps going.

“I know you said it wouldn’t be easy, but we’ve been okay, right? And I told you you could tell me anything, but…”

“But what? Where the fuck is this coming from?” Tony growls, and now it’s _his_ eyes that are bright and glassy.

“You were talking in your sleep,” Steve says.

“I’ve been doing that since I was a kid.”

“You said…” Steve takes a breath and swallows the lump in his throat. “You were saying that you didn’t want to be with me anymore, that you… that you love me, but you can’t do this.”

He barely finishes the last word when Tony practically flings himself at Steve, and then their lips are suddenly pressed against each other in one long, chaste kiss.

“You’re an idiot,” Tony whispers, “that wasn’t about you, none of those dreams were about you, _Jesus_.”

“Then what–”

“I’ve been talking to Pepper more lately, SI business, and I don’t know, I guess I started remembering when we broke up. It doesn’t mean anything, we’re friends now, it’s all good– shit, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“Are you…” Steve’s voice breaks. “So we’re okay?”

“You’re damn fucking right we’re okay, you big, beautiful idiot,” Tony laughs, and it’s a little watery but neither of them give a damn. “I’m a genius, baby– how could I ever even think about letting go of the best thing that’s ever happened to me? Besides,” he says, and cups Steve’s face in his hands. “My only good dreams now are about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep,” Tony pops the p, and then kisses Steve. “I dream about holding you and kissing you,” he moves down to mouth at Steve’s neck, “and fucking you on our bed. And just… being with you.”

“G-good,” Steve moans.

“Because you make me so fucking happy. Every fucking day, honey.”

“Same here.”

“I love you, baby,” Tony grins. “And now you know better than to listen to anything I say when I’m anything less than half awake.”

Steve lets out a watery laugh and presses his face into the crook of Tony’s neck.

Yeah, they’re okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and check out my tumblr at captainstarkreportingforduty! :)


	8. The one where... Tony reminds Steve he's not alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Write a fic where Steve is homesick and Tony helps him through it? i think Steve would have problems adjusting to the future and i think he would have that sinking feeling in his stomach all the time at first, after they saved the world and everything kinda calmed down and he didn't know what to do with himself. i think Tony would see that and try to take his mind off this. he would try to make him feel less lonely."
> 
> Warnings: NONE

It starts in the morning, when Steve misses breakfast. 

He’s usually one of the first to wake up, and every time Tony stumbles into the kitchen later in the mornings, the sight of his Captain smiling by the counter never fails to put a smile on his face.

Except this time, because there’s no sign of him.

Tony steps further into the kitchen, and spots Barton and Bruce sitting in silence on their respective stools. “Where’s Steve?” he asks.

Clint shakes his head. “Said ‘e wasn’t ‘ungry,” he mumbles through a mouthful of Froot Loops.

“That’s a first,” Tony chuckles, reaching for his mug, but as he leaves, he tells himself to check up on the guy later.

But when he goes back to his workshop, he loses himself in the numbers and the theories, and while Steve never leaves his mind– he’s been a constant presence there for longer than Tony’s ever willing to admit– everything else gets lost behind his work.

He doesn’t go back up until dinner, and by then, he’s so hungry he practically inhales a slice of leftover pizza. It’s not until he registers the unusual silence, that he remembers what he’d set out to do earlier.

“Where’s Cap, Jay?” he looks up, the odd feeling in his chest growing heavier as he asks. This isn’t like Steve.

“ _In his suite, Sir._ ”

“Has he eaten?”

“ _Captain Rogers has not left his room since returning from his morning run._ ”

Tony frowns.

This really isn’t like Steve.

“Right… shut down the sandbox,” he says, and pulls out the rest of the pizza from the fridge. “I’m goin’ in.”

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS replies, and Tony leaves the kitchen minutes later with two platefuls of pizza and determined set to his jaw.

The ride up to Steve’s floor feels longer than usual, and Tony spends every moment trying to quell down the surge of irrational panic. _Deep breaths_ , he thinks, as the doors open and he steps through.

“I’m pretty sure a piece of toast isn’t enough for that body of yours–” he calls out, but then the couch comes into view and he stops short.

Because Steve is sitting right in the middle, wiping his eyes hastily as he turns to face him. They’re big bright and red, even from where Tony’s standing, but it’s the wet tracks rolling down Steve’s face that he can’t look away from.

“Um,” he finally stutters, after what feels like hours of the two of them staring at each other. _Normal, Tony. Don’t freak._ “I think you need pizza?”

Steve lets out a watery laugh, and nods. “I _am_ awfully hungry,” is all he says.

“Well, that’s what happens when you avoid the kitchen all day,” Tony replies, holding out a plate as he settles down beside him.

“I’m not avoiding, I just…” Steve looks down and picks at the cheese.

“Did I, like, say something without thinking again? I apologized in advance, y’know, and I probably didn’t mean it– scratch that, I definitely didn’t mean it, whatever it was.”

“It’s not you, Tony.” 

“Feel like sharing with the class, then?” Tony asks. “Not that you have to, if you don’t. And it doesn’t have to, uh, be me. I could go get Romanoff. Or Pep. She’s a good listener– but only if you want to. And you should probably eat your pizza, it’s getting cold. Is it warm? I could go heat it up again? Shit, should I just go? I should–” he’s rambling. He knows it. But he can’t stop, and his mouth is running faster because Steve’s eyes are getting blurry again, and it’s one of the most heartbreaking things Tony’s ever seen. “Am I making it worse? I can, I can stop–”

“It’s my Ma’s birthday.”

_Oh_ , is all Tony can think.

“I can still remember exactly what she looked like. She was so beautiful. Most of the time, she looked tired, and a little sad, but she was always beautiful. I needed her so much– I still do. And now… every time I think about her, it’s like… like I can’t breathe. Sometimes,“ Steve looks up, and Tony’s heart breaks again at the pain in his eyes. “Sometimes I feel like maybe I’d rather forget– forget her, forget Bucky, forget everything. Because it hurts.” The last word comes out quiet and broken. “But I don’t want to. I love them… I always will, and I can’t do it without them. I don’t know what’d be worse, anyway.”

“Steve…” Tony whispers, and he doesn’t know what else to say, but in that moment, he thinks he’d give everything he has to make Steve smile again.

“It’s okay, Tony,” Steve says ruefully, shaking his head. “I’m okay–”

“It’s fine if you’re not.”

“Is it?” The words are almost pleading now, and his blue eyes are still not dry, so Tony puts the plates on the coffee table and settles in further into the couch. Steve doesn’t smile, but he rests his head on Tony’s shoulder gently.

“Yeah. And y'know what? It never stops hurting,” he sighs, and thinks of his mom’s bright smile. “But you get better at breathing. You live twice as hard for them, and you don’t fucking stop.”

“Even when the world keeps spinning without me?” Steve whispers. “It’s so hard sometimes. Everything’s so loud, and fast, and bright. And I can’t keep up. I don’t know if I want to.”

“Then you come talk to me. Or Barton, or Romanoff– anyone you want. You come find us and we’ll talk until you feel like Steve again. It might be crazy sometimes, because we’re fucking insane, but it’ll never be lonely. We’ve all got shitty pasts, y'know. But ‘we’re all in this together’, and all that jazz.”

Steve chuckles into Tony’s shirt, and even though it’s barely there, Tony grins at the hint of happiness.

“Still want your pizza?” He asks, and when he feels a nod against his shoulder, he grabs their plates once more. “And now it’s cold again, but _c'est la vie_. And bonus! you can have my crusts. Eat up, cap. And Jay,” he looks up again. “Run _Fellowship_ , will ya?”

JARVIS doesn’t answer, but the film starts playing immediately on the screen in front of them, and Steve makes a hum if approval as they settle in for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and check out my blog at captainstarkreportingforduty! :)


	9. The one where… Tony’s proposal plans go to hell, but there’s still a happy ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Tony trying to propose to Steve, 'trying' being the key word, because he is so nervous that he stutters through the whole speech, he can't breathe, he drops the box with the ring, while showing it to Steve, because his hands are shaking /so/ hard and he almost works himself into an anxiety attack. Which only makes Steve love him more, because he wouldn't have it any other way."
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

Of course the universe would find a way to screw him over, just because it’s the most important thing Tony’s ever done.

After all the planning– the hours spent on the phone basically bribing the Met to let him rent out the place for the day, the frankly ridiculous excuses he has to come up with to stop Steve from coming into the workshop while he makes the ring, and the days it takes for him to come up with the perfect speech– it goes wrong the second he goes ahead and does it.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“You put all these up yourself?” Steve points at all the fairy lights and colored lantern balls decked out around the canopy they’re under.

Tony nods, breathing deeply to calm his heart’s frantic beating.

“You’re not a fan of stargazing, though. I usually have to drag you out here,” Steve chuckles, but stops when he turns back to him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Tony swallows. 

Clears his throat. 

Looks down.

“I, um… I need to, uh– oh, fuck it,” he sighs, and pulls out the little black box from his pocket.

Only to fumble it as he tries to open it. It slips from his fingers, but doesn’t reach the floor before Steve catches it.

“Tony,” he breathes, hands trembling around the box, but Tony snatches it away from him before he can say anything else.

“No– shit, wait.”

“Oh my god, are you–”

“Let me… fuck… let me finish. Let me start,” Tony stutters, and is horrified when his eyes start burning. He’s not even down on one knee, _god_ , he’s such a fuck up, he can’t even get this right.

“Tony–”

“ _Stop_ ,” his voice breaks. “Babe, you’re gonna have to hear me out, ‘kay? I’m– this is… if i’m only gonna do this once, I’m gonna fucking do it right.”

Steve laughs around a sob. “Okay,” is all he says.

“Right… so,” Tony takes in a breath, then another, and wipes his eyes before looking “Should I kneel? I should kneel–”

“No!” Steve shouts, leaning forward to grab Tony’s shoulders. “This is fine, right here is… this is _perfect_.”

“God, you’re… you can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m not waiting any more. Just gotta get it over with.”

“Oh jeez, I’m so flattered. Anyone’d think you were getting ready to rip off a ban-aid, sweetheart,” Steve mumbles, but he’s still shaking, and he’s still crying, so Tony just huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes.

“I thought I told you to zip it,” he says.

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve grins. “Alright… go.”

“Okay,” Tony breathes. “So, uh… I never thought I’d get to have something like this. Ever. I can’t even remember if there was ever a time when I wanted it. But I remember, uh… I remember looking at myself in the mirror one day– I can’t remember how old I was, y’know– and I remember thinking ‘this is it. It’s just gonna be me, from now on.’ It was easy, and it was clear. I’d pretty much resigned myself to that.”

“But apparently the universe has fucking decided I’ve somehow done something to deserve you– and _holy fuck_ , let me tell you, baby,” he swallows around the lump in his throat, “I could live a thousand lives, and never do enough in any of them to deserve even a tenth of what you’ve given me.

“And I know I’m a mess, okay? I know it’s not always easy to… to be with me. But for some reason, that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to figure out, you’re still here. And I love you more than anything on this fucking planet _oh my god_ , I swear I do, but I’m also too damn selfish to let you go. I want to keep you next to me every day, I want to wake up with you, sleep with you, and kiss you and fight with you, and laugh with you; I want to cry with you, and raise a family with you– by the way, kids? We’re getting kids. One kid, a ton of ‘em, I don’t care, as long as i’m their dad and you’re their Papa. I want to be there when we’re old and fat and grey, and we can barely remember anything else except each other.

“So… if there’s even the smallest fucking chance I get any of that with you, you bet your sweet ass I’m gonna fight for it. Cuz you’re stuck with me, hon. And uh… maybe I can get stuck with you, too.”

“Maybe you should go ‘head and ask me, then,” Steve hiccups.

“Yes sir,” Tony winks, and lifts a trembling hand in a weak salute. 

“So… Steve Rogers, you’ve got my heart, you’ve got every little, broken piece of me. Wanna get hitched?”

“Yes,” Steve’s nodding frantically, and the next moment, he sweeps Tony into his arms, closer and closer until their faces are buried into each other’s neck. “I love you, I do, so much, Tony. Oh my god, you beautiful, wonderful man.”

“No part of this went as planned, by the way,” Tony says, pulling away to finally get the ring.

“I don’t care, it was perfect,” Steve sighs, eyes tearing up as he stares at the ring. “Is that–”

“Vibranium? Yeah,” Tony nods, and holds it out. “Last chance to back out.”

Steve slides in on his finger before he’s even done talking. “Like hell I will. It’s you and me from now on, Stark.”

Tony smiles, and kisses him under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and check out my tumblr at captainstarkreportingforduty! :)


	10. The one where... Steve reminds Tony he's worth it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT: “H/c with sad Tony especially so I am here to prompt: Imagine a high school au like the Avengers are besties, but other than that Tony doesn't have any friends, people are always mean to him and bully him. Tony is so fed up with this, the comments are getting more and more cruel and one particularly bad day, he comes to the meeting with the Avengers and when they ask him what's up he just starts sobbing, cause he can't handle it anymore and he was holding it in for too long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE

As soon as Tony spots Justin Hammer perched smugly at his desk, he knows it’s gonna be one of those days. 

“Hey, look.” Hammer’s grin is cruel when he spots Tony, “it’s the little orphan.” There’s a ripple of laughter from his stupid little clique, but Tony rolls his eyes, ignoring the deep pang of grief his heart gives at the reminder. It’s been seven months, but it hurts enough to make him wonder if the pain will ever fade.

“I know you’re a fucking idiot,” he says, his voice as bored and careless as he can make it, “but clearly you’re dumber than I thought if you can’t tell where your seat is.”

Hammer’s smile doesn’t leave his face. “Just thought I’d see how you’re doing.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Tony snorts, hands clenching to fists beside him.

“You must be pretty relieved, though, right? At least they’re not around for you to disappoint anym–”

“Fuck you,” Tony hisses, and pushes Hammer off his desk with trembling hands. He sinks into his seat and stares at the empty whiteboard ahead, willing the burning in his eyes away. Dimly, he hears whispers and more laughter, but then they fade as the crowd dissipates. He takes a breath to compose himself, and squares his shoulders when he hears Howard’s cold, hard voice in his head: _Starks don’t cry, boy. Grow some balls and be a man._

 _Sure thing, Dad_ , Tony thinks, and fights the urge to scream.

\- - - - - - - - - -

He’s managed to put the incident in the back of his mind by noon, but damn it, he should’ve known better.

“Really, I’m not surprised you guys have nothing b-better to do,” he snarks, breath hitching when one of Rumlow’s goons pushes him hard against the locker, his back hitting the sharp end of the handle. The hallways are empty except for him and a handful of guys. And Brock, of course.

“Heard you were being a little shit to Hammer this morning.”

“What, you guys buddies or something?” Tony asks, and chuckles at the thought.

“Not that _you_ ’d know what that’s like, right?” Rumlow smirks, and Tony’s blood runs cold. “Nobody thinks you’re worth a fuck, y’know. The whole school knows better than to waste their time with you.”

“You done?” He forces the words out, and feels relief when they come out smooth and calm. 

God knows the rest of him doesn’t feel that way.

“Better keep that mouth shut before we make you,” another goon says from over Rumlow’s shoulders, and Tony’s almost slides down to the floor when the tight grip on his shoulders is released.

“So nice catching up, Brock,” is what he says instead, “we should do it again soon.” He throws them a peace sign as he walks away, and if his legs and fingers are shaking, he can only hope he’s far enough for them to miss it.

\- - - - - - - - - -

He spends lunch in one of the science labs, finishing up the rest of his Chem project just before the bell rings. But the door opens just as he’s putting his things away, and Tony stills at the sight of Tiberius Stone.

“Stone.”

“Oooh, so cold,” Ty winces playfully. “I was hoping you’d be out your little funk by now. It’s getting annoying.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later, baby.”

Tony sighs, but looks back down at his work. “What do you want, Ty?”

“Got a party this weekend. Thought you could drag yourself out of your big, empty mansion and come around for a couple of hours.”

“No thanks,” Tony says, and hears Ty step closer.

“Come on, there’ll be a shitload of booze– I know how you much you love it.”

Tony’s shaking his head before he can stop himself. “I think I’ll take a rain check, Ty.” The words are almost desperate, and he’s past caring. “Not interested in hangovers right now.” _Or ever again_. 

“You think you’re better than me all of a sudden?” Ty’s face hardens to a sneer. “So quick to be a goody-two-shoes now that the folks are gone?”

“Stop,” Tony warns him, and feels his heart speed up. “Ty–”

“Too late for that, Stark. Might as well go all out, and maybe if we’re all lucky you can join ‘em–”

He doesn’t hear the rest as he rushes past Ty and leaves the lab, pushing at the crowded hallways. _Shit, shit, shit. In, out… breathe, you idiot,_ he thinks, but almost stumbles when he doesn’t feel air coming into his lungs. He runs inside the first door he finds, and leans against it as his shoulders heave. 

_In…_

_Out…_

_In…_

_Out…_

After ten breaths, he forces his feet forward, and the smell of old books hits him before he even steps further inside. Mr. Erskine, the librarian, waves at him from over the counter, and Tony gives him a practiced grin before ducking into the first aisle. He thumbs over endless book spines as he makes his way down, and tries to find the rhythm in his lungs. 

But then he turns the corner and loses it all over again.

He sees Natasha first, perched on the group table and whispering to Barton, who’s leaning back on a chair next to her. Sam and Barnes are arm wrestling, and their quiet grunts are just loud enough to break the silence around them. And right in the middle of the group, is Steve, smiling softly as he brushes a pencil against the notebook in front of him. Just the sight of him makes Tony’s heart skip a beat, and he lets out a sigh before he can smother it. 

All five heads snap his way, but Steve puts down his pencil and grins at him, all bright blue eyes and sunshine in his hair and Jesus Christ, he’s so damn beautiful.

“Hey, you’re just in time,” he says, and the softness in his voice is the best thing Tony’s felt all day, like warm blankets and the memory of his mom’s voice as she said his name when he was little.

It feels like _home._

His eyes burn again– god, it feels like that’s all they’ve done today– and before he can stop it, a low, broken sob feels like it’s torn out of him.

Almost immediately, he’s pulled into a warm embrace, and he buries his face into the familiar chest just as he makes sense of the words being whispered into his ear. 

“Tony, what’s wrong, what is it? Tony, hey…”

He wants to tell him something, anything, but he can’t fucking stop crying and his heart is breaking like it’s never broken before, like it’ll never be whole again–

“Tony– Jesus, he’s shaking so hard, I can’t– _Tony_ ,” Steve’s voice breaks, and it’s the pain behind it that finally makes him look up. Warm fingers wipe the tears from his cheeks, until Tony can see blue eyes filled with confusion and concern. 

He didn’t deserve any of it.

“Don’t deserve what– Tony, you’re scaring us.”

Tony doesn’t know he’s said anything until the arms that are around him again stiffen. “I can’t do this.” 

“Do what?” someone asks– Barton?– but Natasha shushes him a second later. 

“Tony.” God, he loves how Steve says his name, he loves Steve _so goddamn much_ , but–

“i can’t… It hurts, a-and I’m… I’m so fucking _tired_ ,” he says, closing his eyes when a fresh wave of tears threaten to fall.

“We’re right here, Tony– Tony, I’m right here. Talk to us, let me help.”

“Why… why would you?” Tony whispers.

“Why– Jesus… Hey, look at me,” Steve says, and even though it’s not harsh by any means, there’s something commanding in the way he says it that has Tony obeying. The blue eyes he finds looking down at him, burning with purpose and determination, make him breathless. “I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear, alright? You are our friend and we are yours. We care about you and worry about you, and we’re gonna do it forever. And if someone’s hurting you, you can bet your ass we’re gonna fuck them up–”

“Language,” Tony hiccups, and damn it, if he isn’t crying again.

“I don’t give a shit,” Steve grins, and the others chuckle in approval. “I would do a hell of a lot more than curse for you, Tony Stark. You’re worth it.”

Tony doesn’t reply, but when Steve smiles into his hair, and runs his hands down his back, he thinks he might be able to believe it one day.


	11. The one where... Steve and the gang defend their own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “that fic with steve and the rest of the avengers comforting tony MADE MY HEART BURST WITH TEARS AND JOYY can we pleaseee have a sequel where the avengers go to fuck all the bullies up (steve and rhodey are first in line but the rest of them aren't far behind) and maybe even stevetony love confessions?”
> 
> Sequel to Chapter 10!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Okay, mission accomplished.”

Clint’s voice breaks through the comfortable silence around them as he takes his seat on the quad table, and Steve feels his shoulders tense immediately. “It took me a while, but my little birds–”

“You need to stop calling them that,” Natasha sighs.

Clint sticks out his tongue, but continues. “My little birds got me some names: Hammer, Rumlow, and Stone.”

“No surprise,” Bucky mutters beside Steve, viciously stabbing at a chicken nugget with his spork. “Fucking assholes.”

“So how’re we gonna do this?” Sam asks. “And where’s Rhodes–”

“I asked him to go leave Tony with Pepper,” Steve replies. “But you can be damn well sure I’ll let him in on the plan. I don’t want Tony to worry, though…”

“Better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission,” Natasha says. “Now, what’s the plan?”

“We’re gonna teach ‘em what it’s like to mess with one of ours, that’s what,” Bucky growls. 

“I call Stone,” Sam nods purposefully, and returns Clint’s fist bump with a feral grin.

“I’ll take Hammer then,” Bucky says. “Nat, you want Rumlow–”

“ _No_ ,” Steve almost yells, relishing in the way his voice cuts sharply through the conversation.

“Cap?”

“You leave Brock to me,” he says firmly, and then feels the corner of his mouth quirk up just a little bit when Clint lets out a loud whoop.

\- - - - -

“Steve–”

“What.”

“Steve, come on–”

“Get out of my way, Buck.”

“Oh my god, you idiot, you’re gonna get so much shit for this.”

“I don’t care–”

“You gotta wait for Rho–”

“Okay, I’m here,” Rhodey’s voice appears from somewhere over Steve’s shoulders, and moments later, he’s falling into step beside him. “They in the cafeteria?”

From the corner of his eye, Steve sees him crack his knuckles. “Yeah,” he says. 

“You guys sure about this?” Sam asks, right as they reach the entrance to the cafeteria. It’s loud and full, but Steve and Rhodey just nod. “Oh, who am I kidding? Barnes, get ready to hold one of ‘em back–”

“ _Hey, assholes!_ ”

Almost every head turns their way, and the room grows quiet as Rhodey’s voice cuts through the cacophony around them. Steve can feel the steady presence of his friends behind him, but the second he spots Rumlow and Hammer at Tiberius Stone’s table, he’s all but running in their direction.

“Well looky here,” Hammer smirks. “If it isn’t Tony Stark’s merry little band of misfits–”

“I’m gonna wipe that smirk right off your face, you fucker,” Bucky growls. 

“ _Я помогу_ ,” Natasha hisses.

“Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” Steve growls. His fists are clenched at his side, even though all he wants to do is swing them at the boys in front of him.

“Oh, you _are_ hot when you’re angry,” Stone leers. “I can see why Tony’s got a crush–”

“Shut up,” Rhodey growls. “And we’re telling you now: this is the last time you fuck around with him.”

“Especially you, Brock,” Steve says tightly. “Next time you even think about it, you’re gonna have to get through me.”

Rumlow just laughs.

“Never thought of him as a crybaby,” Stone says lazily, leaning on Brock’s meaty shoulder as he rises to his feet. “But I guess now that Mommy dearest is gone–”

Rhodey’s fist flies out and hits its mark, knocking Hammer’s jaw back. “ I said _shut. Up!_ ”

Steve doesn’t even have time to move before Rumlow lunges at him, and barely registers the pain as a meaty fist slams against his stomach. The space around him erupts into chaos, but Steve can hear Brock’s voice clear as day. “I’m gonna pay that son a bitch a visit after I’m done with you,” he grunts, even as Steve manages to hit his shoulder. “Gonna show ‘im w-what a piece of _shit_ he is–”

“I don’t think so, Mr. Rumlow,” says a hard, clear voice, before Steve can land another punch to Rumlow’s cheek. It takes him a second to realize that the fighting around them’s stopped– just as quick as it started– and he looks up to meet Principal Fury’s dark eyes. 

“Sir–”

“Save it,” Fury snaps. “Not another word from any of you idiots. I want each and every one of you in my office in the next minute or you are out of here, is that understood?”

From the corner of his eye, Steve sees his friends nod.

“Now stand up, smooth out those damn wrinkles, and get the hell out. Coulson, go with them.”

Steve does as he’s told, but when he catches the faint smile on Rhodey’s face–and on Bucky’s, and everyone else, frankly– he doesn’t feel a single shred of regret.

\- - - - -

“You’re an idiot.”

Steve opens his eyes at the sound of Tony’s voice, lifting his head from his pillow just enough to send the brunet a smile. “Hi.”

Tony rolls his eyes, and walks further into the room until he plops onto the bed beside Steve. “I, uh, tried to call you,” he says softly. His eyelashes brush his cheeks as he looks down at his hands, and all Steve wants to do is lean in and press his lips against them. “Left you a shit load of messages, but you, um, you weren’t answering, so–”

“My mom took my phone,” Steve replies. “And I’m grounded for a month, no surprise.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you got.”

“I know.”

Tony sighs, and finally looks up until their eyes meet. “I can’t believe you pulled this shit.”

“Tony–”

“That was just… that was so fucking stupid!”

“I don’t–”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“You kiddin’ me?” Steve sits up so fast, he almost gets vertigo. “What did ya think we were gonna do?”

Tony blinks. “Not this! You could’ve been _suspended_ – God, I can’t believe I have to spell this out for you, you’re just like Rhodey.”

“Well it was worth it, and I don’t regret it.”

“I’m not…” Tony shakes his head, eyes closing as he nuzzles into Steve’s pillow. “ _Steve…_ ”

“Hey,” Steve whispers back. His hand finds Tony’s before he even realizes it, and with baited breath, he moves back down to lie beside the brunet. “Tony, hey. Look at me?”

“I’m so fucking pissed at you. Don’t do that again.”

Steve shakes his head, even though Tony can’t see him. “No promises, Shellhead.”

“Why the hell not?” Tony asks, and the tremor is his voice almost breaks Steve’s heart.

“Because if you think any of us would ever just stand there and let anyone hurt you–”

“I’m not worth it.”

Steve manages to ignore pain the words bring, and finally gives in to the urge to wrap Tony up in his arms. “You’re the only one who think so, genius,” he whispers into soft, tousled brown hair, and breathes around a smile when Tony burrows further into him.


	12. The one where... Tony finds comfort in who matters most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Tony so desperately wants to have a kid and be a great father but at the same time he is terriffied. So when they adopt a child Tony is too scared to even pick him up, he doesn't try to talk to him etc. Steve is helpless. But then a mission goes wrong and Steve goes missing for two weeks. And the night when Tony finds out about it he just goes to his son and picks him up and when Steve comes back Tony and their son are inseparable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

Tony had no idea a person could be so small.

Well, obviously, that’s a lie. It’s not like he’s never seen a baby before. But it’s almost always been a passing thing– a quick hug and pass, a pat on the head from an excited fan, even a kiss on the cheek if a parent insisted.

This, however…

This is different, he thinks, as he stares at the baby girl sleeping comfortably in the crib in front of him. She’s hardly making a noise except for the occasional sniffle or the rustling of her onesie as she moves a tiny limb almost imperceptibly. 

But Tony notices. 

He’s noticed every single thing about their daughter, from the moment she was first put in Steve’s arms. Every tiny lash brushing her soft cheek, every nail on her fingers and toes– he hasn’t missed a thing.

And yet, for all that he’s done that, he has yet to actually _know_ anything else. He has yet to know what her warm weight would feel like in his arms, has yet to know how soft her little blond hair would feel like against his rough, callused hands. It’s only when she’s like this, still and silent to the world, that he dares to do nothing else but look at her.

 _I know you’re scared_ , he remembers Steve telling him, hours before they’d kissed each other goodbye beside the Quinjet. 

Tony had raised an eyebrow in response. “ _Tony Stark, scared?_ ”

“ _You love her, I know you do,_ ” Steve’d whispered against his lips, softly and full of nothing but love. “ _You’re going to be an amazing father. She’s ours, and she needs you, sweetheart._ ”

“You sure hit the shitty jackpot with me, _bella,_ ” he says now, his lips barely moving as he runs a hand over the crib’s edge. “Don’t see why your Papa’s so convinced it’ll all turn out dandy. I’m…”

The sound of the door to the nursery opening softly makes the words trail off, as Pepper’s tall, familiar form enters the room, and Tony opens his mouth to speak again, only to stop short when he sees the tears in her eyes. 

“Tony…” she says, voice ragged and broken, and that’s all it takes for Tony’s body to grow cold. 

_No…_

“Pep.”

“Agent Coulson just– he just called me. Tony…”

“Say it, just–” the words fall out slowly. “Say it.”

“Steve’s MIA.”

The next breath he takes has his shoulders heaving, and it takes everything in him to not fall to his knees. “I– where’s the… the team?”

“At SHIELD. Coulson said–”

“I’m going to find him.”

Pepper steps closer. “Tony–”

“No, I need– I need sit rep, I need to talk to Nat, Clint– Barnes, they’ll know,” he rasps out, and manages to stay upright as he all but bolts out the room.

“Tony, you can’t– Tony, wait!” Pepper shouts, and then both of them wince when the baby wakes with a whimper that grows to a wail. “You can’t just leave, what about your daughter?”

Tony doesn’t look at her. He can’t. He just gives Pepper a pleading look. “Take care of her.”

“Tony–”

“Please,” he says, voice breaking despite his resolve to not fall apart. “I need…” _to find him, bring him back, give my baby at least one good father._ “I need to go,” he finally says, and doesn’t wait for a response before leaving. 

He ignores the tug on his chest at the fading cries behind him.

\- - - - -

Tony comes home hours later to nothing but silence. 

Pepper’s on the large middle couch, the baby nestled comfortably in her arms as she rocks them both back and forth, but neither of them make a sound, even when Pepper’s eyes find his.

“We didn’t…” Is all he can say, and feels his eyes burn yet again as he shakes his head.

“Come here,” Pepper replies, slowly rising to her feet as he approaches, and Tony’s helpless to keep his eyes from falling to the squirming bundle in front of him. 

His daughter is no longer wearing a beanie, and her blond, downy head shines like gold in the dim light around them. Her gurgles are low but happy, and when her wide eyes meet his, they widen in recognition as she squeals in joy.

She has Steve’s eyes.

Tony can’t hold back the gasping breath, knees buckling under the overwhelming tide of emotions.

She has Steve’s eyes, big and blue like the sky Tony loves so much. Like the man he loves more than he’s ever loved anything.

“Tony.”

He doesn’t look up at Pepper, doesn’t look away from the only thing that’s keeping him sane. 

“Won’t you hold her?”

Tony holds out his trembling hands before he knows he’s doing it, desperate to feel something other than the terror trying to numb every inch of his body at the panicked, irrational thought of not finding Steve, of not seeing his smile or hearing his voice or _feeling his arms around him ever again, and_ –

Oh.

The chaos in his mind grinds to a halt as he registers the weight in his arms.

It’s like… she was made for him. 

She settles into a comfortable hold immediately, every inch of her tiny little body fitting perfectly against his chest. Tony doesn’t fight the urge to press his face to the top of her head, and lets out a sob when he breathes in because she smells _just like Steve._

“God,” he whispers, lips brushing against his baby’s cheek as she grabs a tiny fistful of his shirt and holds on. “I can’t–”

“Gahh!” She says loudly, and Tony barely hears Pepper laughing as he pulls away slightly to look at his daughter. The weight is chest still aches– perhaps even more so, because of how much she reminds him of Steve– but he can’t but marvel at every single thing he sees; the wispy curls framing her cherubic little face, the gummy grin she’s giving him, even the baby blue socks covering her wiggling feet– it’s like he’s suddenly seeing her for the first time, and he feels faint, whisper-soft tendrils of warmth begin to bloom in his chest.

“You’re going to find him,” Pepper says, and there isn’t a single shred of doubt in her voice. Tony just nods, riveted by the gentle babbling coming from his arms. He suddenly can’t imagine ever letting go of her– especially now.

“Da!” his daughter coos, and Tony tightens his hold just a little bit more.

“Yeah, bella. Daddy’s here.”

\- - - - -

When Steve takes his first step back on American soil two weeks later, the now familiar weight in Tony’s arms doesn’t keep him from running into his husband’s outstretched ones.

“Took me bein’ missing to get her there, huh?” Steve chuckles, before their lips can even meet. His eyes are red-rimmed and wet– not unlike Tony’s, to be honest– but he’s still the most gorgeous man Tony’s ever seen.

“Well, _somebody_ was slacking off on Daddy duty,” Tony says pointedly, chest bursting with warmth when Steve leans down to pepper their daughter’s face with kisses. “Wanna maybe not leave me hanging like that again?”

Steve’s eyes glimmer with determination when they move up to meet his again. “I’ll try my damnedest not to.”

“Good enough for me, Captain,” Tony nods, and finally leans in to taste the smile on Steve’s lips.


	13. The one where... Tony keeps his man warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Maybe Tony and Steve being out in the city and it's the coldest night of the year. And there's some kind of explosion near them and it leaves them trapped under the rubble. They're okay, but they have to wait for the rescue team. But it's only getting colder and contrary to popular belief it's not Tony who handles it badly. Steve hates the cold and his trauma doesn't help, so Tony does everything to keep him warm, like giving him all his clothes and hugging him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

Tony wakes to darkness.

For a single, terrifying moment, he’s back in the caves, back in Afghanistan with the heat and the fear, the endless pain of the _torturenonotagainpleaseno_ –

But then, slowly, the light on his chest breaks through the chaos, soft and bright and cool, everything those three months weren’t, and with a deep, ragged breath, Tony’s mind catches up to his body.

Right.

The battle. Natasha’s shrill warning– “ _Watch out, Stark! Cap!_ ”–just as a dark wave’d swallowed the two of them beneath concrete and metal.

Tony’s suit groans and creaks as he lifts his hands to his head, and despite the dust still floating around him, he gulps in a lungful of air when the faceplate comes off. He’s relieved at how easily he’s able to sit up, and grateful that he has space to move.

But then he turns his head, and finds he’s not alone.

The sight of an all too familiar back, broad shoulders covered in dark blue uniform and rubble, almost makes his heart stop.

“S-Steve,” he gasps, scrambling over– limbs moving more quickly than they should be able to, with all that cold, hard armor– until he’s sitting next to the blond. “Steve, hey, wake up.” 

For a couple of seconds, there’s no response, but then Steve’s lips open almost imperceptibly, and the soft groan that leaves them has Tony sighing in relief. “ _Ngghh_ …T’ny?”

“Heya, Cap,” Tony can’t help smiling, and even with his eyes barely open, Steve smiles back, a thin quirk of his lips that nevertheless helps to lighten the heavy weight on Tony’s chest. “You okay?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, I…” His voice trails off as he looks around, and Tony sees a shiver run through him. “I rememb-ber a b-building… ‘tasha… Are _you_ okay?”

“Peachy,” Tony replies. “Gonna take more than a skyscraper to bring me down. Comms are down, though.”

“I know.” Steve sits up slowly, and then reaches out a hand to cup Tony’s cheek. “You s-sure you’re okay?”

Tony ignores the hitch in his breath, the way his heart skips a beat. “‘M fine, Steve,” he whispers, eyes falling to the blond’s lips. “But you’re lookin’ a little blue there.”

Steve pulls away with another nod, and wraps both arms around his middle. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, Shellhead.”

“Impossible.”

“Y’know how far under we are?”

Tony shakes his head. “Barely woke up too, Cap. Just as in the dark as you are. Literally.”

Even in the dim light, he catches the fond roll of Steve’s eyes. “Gimme a moment to catch my breath, then we’ll start tryin’ to figure out a way outta here, yeah?”

“Sir, yes sir,” Tony gives him a lazy salute, but doesn’t miss the blond’s trembling jaw. “Steve–”

“I’m fine, ‘m just– a little cold,” Steve looks away, and Tony bites back a curse when he remembers the snowstorm that’d started just earlier that day. It’s three days till Christmas, and the city’d been hit with a cold wave not seen in years.

Inside the suit it’d been easy to forget, but now, it’s suddenly all he can think about. 

“Come on, then,” he finally says, with more aplomb than he feels. “Let’s get this shit done. There’s a pizza from Marcelo’s with your name on it, sunshine.”

“Sounds p-perfect,” Steve replies, voice firmer than it’d been seconds before, and Tony’s chest grows warm with determination.

\- - - - -

The warmth is gone.

Tony gives the rubble above them one final push, but just like the countless ones before, it’s in vain. With the armor out of power, he doesn’t even manage to move anything even an inch forward. “Fuck,” he growls. “Fucking shit. Steve–”

“Y-yeah?” Comes the soft reply, and Tony turns to find Steve leaning against a section of a wall, face flushed with effort and matted with sweaty hair. His teeth are chattering more than they were before, so loud that Tony can hear them from where he’s standing.

“Sit down,” he says, but Steve shakes his head.

“Gotta keep tryin’–”

“We will,” Tony replies. “But sit down for a minute.”

“Tony–”

“Look at me.”

Steve pulls away from the concrete, and lifts his eyes slowly until they meet Tony’s.

“Sit. Down.”

Steve obeys with a sigh, arms quickly finding their place around his middle again. “Just a m-minute, alright? Then w-we’ll get back to w-work.”

“I’m thinkin’ you need more than a minute, handsome,” Tony replies, moving to sit beside him with a heavy breath. He takes off his gauntlets, and holds out his bare hands. “Gimme your hands?”

Steve looks at him for a moment, then another, before removing his own gloves to follow suit. “That pizza’s soundin’ better b-by the minute; though I’d p-pretty m-much take anything hot. Even your awful c-coffee.”

“Shut up,” Tony laughs, trying to ignore the unsettlingly cold fingers clutching his own. It only makes him rub his own a little harder, a little faster. “I don’t complain about your shitty pumpkin spice lattes or whatever.”

“They’re am-mazing.”

“They’re _disgusting_.”

“Bet you w-wouldn’t refuse one r-right about n-now, though…” Steve closes his eyes, and leans his head against the wall as he curls into himself a little bit more.

“Steve,” Tony says, voice just the slightest bit urgent. “Cap, hey, look at me–”

“S-sorry,” Steve breathes, body sluggish as he turns it in Tony’s direction. “‘M s-s-sorry–”

“Don’t apologize,” Tony shakes his head, tugging at Steve’s hands with one hand to pull him closer as he uses the other to deftly rid himself of the top half of his armor. The cold hits him like a blow, even through the sleek, black undersuit, but he ignores it in favor of wrapping his arms around his best friend’s waist. “Just hold on.”

“What’re ya d-doin’?” Steve mumbles, eyes opening just a little as his side meets Tony’s chest.

“Body heat’s important, big guy. Gotta keep it for as long as possible.”

“W’gotta k-keep tryin’–”

“We did,” Tony says. “For god knows how long. Much as I hate to say it, though, it looks like we’re gonna have to leave the rescuin’ to the rest of the team. They’ll be here soon, just watch.”

“‘M s-sure they w-will,” Steve whispers. 

His breathing is so soft, Tony can barely hear it, and he feels a heavy weight settle in his stomach. “Gotta stay with me to watch, though. Wanna bet Thor finds us first?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “W-wager?”

“Loser treats winner to a day out at Coney?”

“D-deal.”

“Shake on it,” Tony says, but Steve barely tugs Tony’s hand around in a weak handshake. “Steve–”

“‘M cold.”

“I know, honey.” The word falls from his lips without thought, but Tony can’t focus on anything else but the stillness of the man next to him. “But we gotta keep moving, Steve, gotta stay warm,” he says, even as he feels his own body grow colder by the second. 

“Why’s it s-so c-cold, Tony?”

“Fucking snow,” Tony rasps. “Fuck this storm, fuck winter, _fuck those fucking shit villains_.”

“I h-hate th’c-cold.”

“I know.”

“‘s j-just like th’ ice.”

“Cap–”

“J-just like th-the p-plane… th’train… ‘M s’rry, Buck, ‘m sorry,” Steve whispers, a lone tear escaping the corner of his eye and falling down his cheek.

“Steve,” Tony says, voice echoing loud and sharp around them. “Steve, open your eyes. Look at me, Rogers.”

“Was so _alone_ ….D-don’ wanna s-sleep again…”

“Then _look at me, goddammit._ ”

Steve does. “P-please d-don’ leav-ve m-me,” he whimpers, eyes glassy and wet, and Tony feels his heart break. “P-pleas-se, Tony, please–”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Tony growls, his own eyes burning as he leans in until their foreheads touch. “Look, put your hands here,” he points to his reactor. “Come on, big guy, keep ‘em right here– there ya go. F-feel that?”

“Warm,” Steve breathes, fingers pressing softly against the circle in Tony’s chest.

“Yep,” Tony nods. “Keep ‘em th-there, okay? It’s not g-goin’ anywhere. _I’m_ not going anywhere.”

“‘M sorry, T’ny.”

“Stop apologizing,” Tony says. “Just keep looking at me, okay? Keep looking at me…”

Steve does.

\- - - - -

Tony wakes to a soft, steady beeping, and an even softer light from the corner of his eye.

“If you weren’t hooked up to an IV, I’d kick your ass,” says a familiar voice close to his feet, and a moment later, Natasha’s face comes into view.

“Steve?” is the only thing he says. 

It’s the only thing that matters.

“He’s okay,” Natasha replies. “Almost knocked Rhodey out when they wouldn’t let him come see you, though.”

“Did they sedate him? Where is he?”

Natasha just blinks. “We compromised,” she replies, and jerks her head to the other side of the room.

“Wh–” Tony starts, but trails off when he sees another bed across the room. 

A bed holding the only person he wants to see. 

“Help me up.”

“Tony–”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself,” he nods, and hides a smile when Natasha sighs and takes his arm to help him leave the bed. The floor is only a little cold, and Tony spares a glance at his feet to find bright red fuzzy socks covering them. “Smart.”

“ _идиот._ ”

It’s only a couple of steps to Steve’s bed, but he doesn’t let out the breath he’s holding until he gingerly climbs up beside the blond and tucks himself into his side. “Cover me?” he asks Natasha, who rolls her eyes but brings the blanket over from the other bed and settles it over them.

“You can open your eyes now, Rogers,” she smirks, and Tony feels his breath catch when Steve’s body tenses slightly. Ever so slowly, he brings his eyes up until they meet bright baby blue ones.

A burst of warmth blooms in his chest, spreading to every point of his body until his blood is practically bursting with it. He barely registers Natasha leaving the room, and it’s not until Steve’s hand comes up to wipe at Tony’s cheek that Tony realizes he’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, and Tony buries his head on the blond’s shoulder to muffle the sob that leaves his mouth. “I’m sorry, Tony, god, I’m so s–”

“It’s okay,” Tony gasps, lips pressing against Steve’s shirt with every word. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

“No it’s not. Tony, look at me.”

“Steve–”

“Tony Stark, look at me, goddammit,” Steve growls, just like Tony’d done down there, and he’s helpless to fight it. “I’m sorry–”

“I’m not.”

“Tony, you almost _died_ trying to keep me warm–”

“I’d do it again, I’d do it every fucking time,” Tony says, hot tears still running down his face. “I’d do it all–”

Steve kisses him.

For a moment, Tony freezes, the _loudfastsharp_ jumble in his brain coming to a standstill. But then Steve makes a low, happy noise in the back of his throat, and it’s like a fucking _fire_ lights up Tony’s blood, and he brings up a hand to cup the back of Steve’s neck as he kisses back. The swipe of their lips against each other is soft and tender, better than anything Tony’s ever imagined.

It’s like sunlight, and for the first time in his life, Tony feels nothing but utter, incandescent happiness.


	14. The one where... Steve’s a baby, and Tony just as gone over him as ever.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #1: “You can’t-- you can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You can’t- you _can’t_.”

“Fury’s just called us in. Sorry,” Natasha shrugs, but doesn’t look all that sorry as she walks to the elevator doors. Barton and Barnes follow behind her, and they just wave and grin when he begs them to stay.

“You’ll be fine,” Barton sighs.

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Tony says through clenched teeth, nodding subtly at the tiny bundle in his arms.

“Awww, that’s sweet,” Barnes snickers, and god, Tony hates all of them so much right now. “But he’ll be fine, Stark. I mean, look at him-- happy as a clam.”

“I hope they shoot you all.”

The smug laughter his comment prompts is the last thing he hears before the elevator doors close and he’s left alone with his new charge.

“Tony,” Steve mumbles, little fingers fiddling with the neck of Tony’s sweater. “Tony, I’m hungwy.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. Let’s, uh, go find you something?” Tony replies, lips brushing bright blond hair as he hoists baby Steve further up in his arms, and tries not to make them tense. "You like, um... cookies?”

“Mama said cookies spoil y’dinner,” Steve tells him, eyes big and blue, and so trusting, they make Tony’s chest warm. “We hafta eat _food_ first!”

“But I don’t...” Tony swings open cabinets when they get to the kitchen. “We gotta find some food first, tater tot.”

“Tater tot’s a p'tato!” Steve giggles.

“We don’t even have those,” Tony mutters, after a look in the refrigerator yields nothing good for either of them. “Here, just, stay here,” he sits Steve down on one of the stools, and pats his head. “Be a good little Cap and stay here, yeah?”

“Okay,” Steve replies, and his brow takes a determined edge so familiar and adorable, that Tony can’t help but kiss his cheek before walking away to call the one person he knows will pull through for him.

\- - - - -

“I’m sorry, Tony, I can’t.”

“No, Pep-- Pepper Pot,” Tony pleads. “Nat’s off to SHIELD with Thing One and Thing Two, Bruce is still in Frankfurt, you gotta help me, Pep, I can’t--” he takes a breath, and looks over his shoulder to where Steve is still sitting. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Did you forget I’m still in Malibu for Shareholder’s weekend? I can’t just _leave_.”

Tony sighs. “I don’t have food, or clothes, or toys. Or, whatever other shit kids need.”

“Give me fifteen minutes,” Pepper tells him, “and you will. But in the meantime, take care of that boy.”

“I _can’t_.”

“Yes you can, and do you know why? Because it’s Steve.”

Tony can’t ague against that.

\- - - - -

Hours later, the doubt is still there-- it’ll always be there when it comes to Steve-- but Tony’s surprised at how little he can feel it.

There’s the terror, of course, because Steve might be tiny and skinny, but he’s also a spitfire like no one Tony’s ever known; he’s already gotten used to running after the toddler, half out of his mind with dread at the thought of Steve braining himself on every possible surface.

But mostly, he’s overwhelmingly in love.

Because this is still his Steve-- the beautiful, stubborn, sarcastic love of Tony’s life-- but now he’s adorable and affectionate, and free in a way that Tony doesn’t think the blond lets himself be. He decides not to think about that bit too much, as he settles further down on the couch with his blond charge lying atop his chest.

“Tony?”

“Hmmm?”

“Where’s Ma?”

Tony tries not to tense, tightening his hold on Steve. “Your Ma?”

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s, uh... well, she’s-- she’s not here, sweetheart.” The name slips out before he realizes, but it doesn’t stop the pang in his heart when Steve looks up at him with tired, confused baby blues.

“Where’s she?”

“In... heaven.” The words are hard to say, and it’s even harder to see those eyes he loves so much grow wet with tears.

“Den who’s gun’ take care of me?”

Tony doesn’t hesitate. “Me. I’ve got you, kiddo, don’t you worry your pretty little nose about it.” He bops said nose, and Steve’s tears disappear as he giggles into Tony’s neck.

“Wuv you, Tony.”

Tony closes his eyes, and takes a moment to breathe and swallow the lump of emotion in his throat.

“I love you too, Steve.”


	15. The one where... Steve should NOT be smiling like that at anyone but Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #2: “You’re not allowed to do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You’re not allowed to do that.”

“Do what?”

Tony points a finger at Steve’s face. “That smile. I forbid it. Stop it right now,” he tries to sound firm, but it comes out a little breathless when Steve’s lips quirk up even more. “Jesus, put it away!”

“What’s wrong with my smile?”

“It’s…” Tony waves his hand around helplessly. _Gorgeous, perfect, sexy._ “Distracting,” he finally says. “How am I– how is anyone supposed to pay attention to your speech when you look like _that_? They won’t even wait for you to finish before they run off to the ballot boxes!”

“That’s good, right? The whole point of this is to get people to vote for me.” Steve looks so damn hopeful, Tony’s heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, for your boring values and promises, and those soda machines you’re gonna put at the end of the hallways–”

“I never promised that–”

“–but you need the big clincher, Rogers. Tit for tat, y’know. They vote for you, you get rid of those fucking disgusting burritos they serve for Taco Tuesdays.”

“I’m not sure I’ll actually have that kind of power.”

“Sure you will, sunshine,” Tony grins, and Steve rolls his eyes at the nickname even as his cheeks turn the most delicious shade of pink. “Just give the ol’ cafeteria crones that smile, and they’ll be putty in your hands.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to smile at anyone.”

 _Yeah, except me,_ Tony thinks. “I changed my mind,” he says instead, shrugging. “Any means necessary, Cappy bear, we need to take Schmidt down. And since we can’t sniper that bastard–”

“‘Sniper’ isn’t a verb, Tony–”

“Blah, blah, blah. Nat’s pretty bummed out about that, y’know– I can’t tell if that level of trigger happy’s even possible.”

“You guys are insane,” Steve chuckles, shaking his head fondly. The smile hasn’t left his face, and Tony’s helpless to return it with one of his own.

“You want Class President, we’re gonna damn well get it for you.”

Steve looks up at him from beneath those gorgeous eyelashes. “I really do appreciate it,” he says shyly.

“‘Course you do,” Tony grins. “You’re practically a shoo-in for the job, cupcake. _You’ve got the brawn, I’ve got the brains, let’s make lots of money,_ ” he croons.

“This doesn’t pay, Tony,” Steve chuckles, and Tony can only breathe through the familiar pang of longing at the sound.

“Not money, no, maybe. But it’ll be good to have friends in high places, Steve-o, and you’ll be up there in the highest of ‘em.”

“Well, what do _I_ get out of it, then? Tit for tat, you said.”

“The pleasure of seeing my gorgeous face every day, obviously.”

“I already have that,” Steve says, and then both of them try to pretend they don’t see the other blushing.

“Tone it down, Casanova,” Tony sighs, relieved when it doesn’t sound as pathetically lovesick as he feels. “I’m not the one you have to charm today. I already know you’re the right guy for the job.”

“Thank you, Tony. You and Nat, and Pepper, and… everyone. I wouldn’t be able to do it without you.”

“Yeah, you would. You’re Steve Rogers.”

Steve shakes his head, and reaches out to brush his fingers against Tony’s hand. “I’m not Steve Rogers without Tony Stark.”


	16. The one where... Steve's a sap, even in the mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #3: “Your eyes are like the stars.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Your eyes are like the stars.”

Tony blinks the sleep away, and turns into his pillow to face Steve. “Okay, I need coffee right the fuck now,” he grumbles, “because I swear I just heard you say my eyes are like the stars.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“Uh huh,” Tony stares. “Babe… is this what you’re like in the morning?”

“Whaddaya mean?” His boyfriend’s smile is as soft as the early morning light, but that rough, Brooklyn voice sends shivers down Tony’s spine.

“‘Cause I know I’m pretty much half dead by the time you go off on your disgusting little runs, but right now I’m seriously debating whether or not you’re actually awake–”

“I think that’s more’n I’ve ever heard you say at this time’a day,” Steve grins.

“The point remains,” Tony mumbles, pausing to stretch like a cat and then flopping over on top of the blond, “that you’re not making sense, dew drop.”

“I always make sense. I’m Captain America.”

“So you _are_ lucid.”

Steve nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Oooooh,” Tony purrs, kissing Steve’s neck as he rocks his hips into the body beneath his. “Feeling kinky too, are we?”

“Mmmm, well you d-do bring out the best in me,” Steve moans, arms coming up to warm the small of Tony’s back.

“Back atcha, stud muffin. But first…” Tony leans up to brush his nose against Steve’s in an eskimo kiss. “What was that about my eyes and the stars?”

“Well… okay, so when I was a kid, I didn’t get out much.”

“Not that there was a lot to get out to, of course.”

“Hush, you,” Steve jostles him. “It didn’t bother me, most times. I had Bucky and my Ma, and I drew and read, and baked. But sometimes, I used to sneak out the house at night, and I’d climb on the roof and stay there for a couple of hours, with my blankets. I used to look up at the stars, and… I’d feel like I could be anything.”

Tony can’t help but bury his face in the blond’s neck, savoring the warmth and the mere presence of the love of his life.

“I didn’t think I’d end up having anything close to this, but just for a little while, I could be free. And y’know… Every time I see your eyes, it’s exactly the same. You make me feel like I can do anything, sweetheart.”

“Y-yeah?” Tony garbles, breathless as he clenches Steve’s biceps in a vice grip.

“I just… I needed you to know that, Tony.”

“I love you too, you fucking meatball. So damn much, you know that, right?”

“I do, I know that,” Steve breathes into Tony’s hair, and then pulls him down until they’re face to face beneath a mountain of covers. “I love you too. You’re… everything.”

Tony just kisses him, soft and slow, until both of them are left breathless and gasping.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispers.

Steve eyes sparkle like the sun. “Good morning, beloved,” he replies, and leans in once more.


	17. The one where... Tony buys a ranch for his baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #4: "You're crazy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You’re crazy.”

Steve’s voice breaks through the low, steady hum of the workshop, but Tony doesn’t even spare him a glance as the numbers on the screen in front of him fluctuate. “Yeah, sure, that’s true. But it’s called ‘eccentric’ when you’re my kinda rich.”

“You are absolutely crazy.”

“Crazy is crazy, babe,” Tony shrugs, but when there’s no response, he finally looks away to look at his husband.

Only to have his heart skip a beat, and then another.

Because Steve didn’t come alone, and the sight of their daughter dozing peacefully on his shoulder, golden curls– the same shade as her father’s– covering half her face, makes him warm all over.

“What’s up?” he asks, and this time, the words are softer and quieter, as peaceful as he feels every time he sees the two people he loves most in the world.

“JARVIS had one of the security guards bring up the mail,” Steve says, and pulls out a folded envelope from his back pocket. Their daughter lets out a whimpering sniffle into his neck, and both he and Tony make shushing noises until she drifts back off with a sigh. “And I’d just like to know why you thought it’d be a good idea to buy our daughter a pony ranch,” he finishes with a fond quirk of his lips, waving the paper at Tony.

“Because she’ll be three in a couple of weeks and I think she’d like ponies, and we can have the party there and why _shouldn’t_ I buy my baby everything, Steve?” Tony cocks his hip, work completely forgotten in favor of the argument he can see coming.

“Maybe because she’s barely taller than our knees and I see a lot of zeros on this thing, Tony, and she’s two?” Steve whispers. “What the hell is she going to do with _thirty-five ponies_?”

“Ride one every weekend–”

“We can’t make the trip every Saturday. Things are bound to come up that’ll keep us here.”

“Then she can stare at ‘em, I don’t know, whatever she wants,” Tony replies. “Hon, just think about it, okay? Instead of, y’know, being cooped up in here for her birthday, so small and sad– you said it yourself, ‘big ugly building’ and all–”

“–you can’t seriously be bringing that up now,” Steve says firmly, but his eyes are bright with humor.

“Don’t you think it’d be great to just get out of here for once, and take all the gang upstate? We can set everything up and relax and she can run around in the grass, under the warm sun; she can pet the ponies and maybe sit on one and they’re just _ponies_ , babe. They’re not going to… they won’t do anything. She’ll be fine, she’ll love ‘em.”

Steve looks down thoughtfully, absently pressing his lips to golden, baby-soft hair, and Tony breathes out a sigh of content. He reaches out to tug at Steve’s belt loops, bringing him closer until they stand silently in the middle of the room, their daughter nestled comfortable between them.

“You’re crazy,” Steve says again, those gorgeous baby blues warm and happy as they settle back on Tony.

“But we’re keeping it?” Tony smirks.

Steve nods. “Yeah, we’re keeping it,” he sighs. “Under one condition?”

“Don’t worry, I already got you a pony too, stud.”

“No, Tony,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Donate it to the Boys & Girls club, in Brooklyn. We can get ‘em a bus to make the trip, and they can make it a weekly thing or somethin’. They can learn and ride and have fun?”

“You’re such a fucking saint,” Tony grumbles.

“Language.”

“She’s sleeping.”

“Still very impressionable baby ears, sweetheart.”

Tony pouts. “Fine.”

“Fine to…” Steve says, curious and knowing all at once.

“Both of ‘em. You know I’m a slave to your whims, _mon Capitan_.”

Steve smirks. “ _Merci_.”

Tony shivers where he stands. “You fight dirty,” he purrs. “But don’t talk the talk if you can’t walk the walk.”

“Help me put her in bed and I’ll show you dirty.”

“Oh my god, okay, yeah, let’s go,” Tony snaps his fingers, softly pushing Steve towards the door.

“Hold her?” Steve asks, once they low hum of the elevator settles around them.

“Do you even have to ask?” Tony counters, and when his baby rests her head on his shoulder, he hums a faint tune to keep her from waking.

“Thank you for loving her so much,” Steve whispers. “You’re crazy sometimes, sure, but you’re a wonderful father. I always knew you would be.”

“I love you too,” Tony hides his suddenly burning eyes in tousled blond curls, and when he feels Steve lean in to kiss his hair, his next breath comes easier than it ever has.


	18. The one where... Steve’s tiny again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #5: “You’re so small.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You’re so small.”

The words fall out of Tony’s mouth before he can stop them, and he almost cowers under the steely blue glare aimed his way.

“Don’t act like you’re surprised,” Steve grumbles, bony arms crossed over his equally bony chest. “You of all people should know what I looked like... before.”

Tony doesn’t bother apologizing. “I mean yeah, I knew, but I didn’t... _know_. This is just-- this is somethin’ else, Rogers.”

“This is bullshit, is what it is,” the blond sighs, shoulders sagging mournfully. He looks like the most adorably aggressive little puppy, and Tony almost laughs. 

Almost.

“It’ll only be two days,” he says. “You heard that gold-horned bastard. Think you can make it?”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “Made it for twenty-five years,” he replies. “What’s a couple of hours, right?”

“There’s my Cap,” Tony grins, and tries to keep his heartbeat steady when Steve smiles back.

\- - - - -

“Tony?”

“Huh?”

“Can you...”

Tony looks over the rim of his tablet to find Steve shuffling by one of the kitchen counters. “What’s up, buttercup?”

Steve gives him an unimpressed look, but squares his shoulder a moment later. “My mug...” he says, pointing at the middle cupboard shelf. “It’s... I can’t...”

"Oh,” Tony blinks, and goes to stand next to the blond, reaching up to get Steve’s mug easily. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks,” Steve smiles, but Tony can see the forced quirk of his lips for what it is.

“What’s it feel like?”

Steve looks into his mug, now full of steaming coffee, and then looks up. “Like I’m... less.”

“You know you’re not, right?” Tony asks immediately. “Because that’s just fucking ridiculous--”

“Tony--”

“No, because it is. You’re--” he waves his hand helplessly, “-- hey, you’re still, y’know. You.”

“I know--”

“You’re not less, that’s just stupid. Don’t be stupid, Steve.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve says loudly, “I know.”

“Oh. Good,” Tony nods. 

“Thank you,” Steve gives him a shy, pleased smile, and Tony barely holds back the lovesick sigh.

God, he’s _so_ fucked.


	19. The one where... there’s a proposal!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #6: “Will you marry me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Will you marry me?”

Tony’s half asleep when he hears the words from the man beside him, feels their warmth against his cheek, but it takes a second to process them.

When he does, he swears his heart stops beating. “Wh--” he breathes. “What?”

“Will you marry me?” Steve whispers, eyes bright in the dim silence of their bedroom.

Tony sits up so fast, he almost gets vertigo. “Steve--”

His boyfriend smiles. “Yeah?”

“What--what, Steve, _what the hell_ ,” Tony flings the covers off, blood rushing in his ears so loud, he can barely hear anything else.

But Steve just sits up too, brushing his fingers against Tony’s. “Sweetheart--”

“Are you...” Tony swallows, and doesn’t try to hide his suddenly trembling limbs. “Are you seriously doing this?”

“I, uh, had it all planned out,” Steve chuckles hesitantly. “I know this isn’t the nicest-- you deserve so much more, honest. But I swear the ring is burning a hole in the drawer--”

“ _Ring_?” Tony breathes, and he can barely see the blond nod through the tears in his eyes. “You have--”

Steve leaps for his bedside table, coming back up a second later with a frantic nod, but it’s the tiny black box he holds in his hand that steals the remaining air from Tony’s lungs.

“I don’t know if you would’ve wanted something a little more...I don’t know--”

Tony can only shake his head, because Steve has a ring, a ring for Tony, a ring that Tony’s never known he wanted so much. He doesn’t care what it’s made of, for Christ’s sake!

“But it’s aluminum. And vibranium. From my dog tags and the shield, because I’m a soldier and I’m Captain America, but baby, the only thing I ever wanna be from now on is your husband.”

“Fuck,” Tony whispers, and it comes out a little like a sob but he doesn’t care. “Steve--”

“Do you love me?” Steve asks, and Tony can only nod. “Because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone, and as long as I’m breathin’, that’s never going to change. I promise.”

“You bastard,” Tony giggles through his tears, breathless and warm all over. “You can’t just s-spring this kind of shit on me. I’ve got heart problems, babe.”

Steve’s grin is bright and hopeful, and the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “I’m too impatient--”

“I know--”

“And stubborn, so I won’t take no for an answer,” Steve finishes.

“Lucky for you, I’m a genius,” Tony smiles shyly, and for the first time, he wonders if _he_ could be lucky enough to see those eyes he loves so much for the rest of his life.

“Would you maybe wanna be just mine?”

“Yeah, okay,” Tony finally whispers, and reaches out with trembling hands to pull Steve in and kiss him. “Yes, I’ll marry you, baby,” he gasps, after they pull away. “I’ll marry the fuck out of ya.”

Steve wraps his arms around him, pulling him back in until their foreheads touch. “I love you so damn much,” he says again, his voice trembling with so much emotion, it brings Tony to tears all over again.

“I love you too,” he rasps, and leans back in to taste the smile on Steve’s face.


	20. The one where... Tony's day gets a bit of a boost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #7: “Cuddle?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Cuddle?”

Tony looks up from his textbook just in time to avoid slamming into a massive, baby blue chest, and he’s on the verge of a biting remark, annoyed at having his thought process interrupted, except he meets a pair of gorgeous blue eyes and--

“Shit” he blurts, numbers and equations fading away in the face of _the most beautiful human being he’s ever seen._

“Free cuddles,” Big, Blue and Blond says, smiling like he’s never been happier.

“Free... cuddles?”

“Yep. Want one?”

Tony looks around. “Is this... do you even go here?”

Blondie laughs. “Sure do,” he nods. “I’m not a crazy creep or anythin’.”

“Jury’s out on the crazy part, handsome,” Tony replies, smirking as the delicious flush on Blondie’s cheeks spreads down beneath the collar of a shirt announcing “FREE CUDDLES” in bright yellow font. The man’s a walking wet dream.

“Thanks... I think?” Blondie smiles again.

“Anytime, sunshine.” Tony says.

“So, is that a yes on the cuddle?”

“Okay,” Tony nods, and then breathes out a whoosh of air when he’s pulled into that beautiful chest, thick, muscled arms surprisingly gentle as they hold him up. He closes his eyes to cherish the warmth, shoulders relaxing in spite of the fact that he’s being hugged by a complete stranger, and wonders how this guy doesn’t have a line of people waiting for this.

It’s over all too soon, though, and Tony reluctantly pulls away to meet those bright blue eyes again. “That was, uh...”

“Nice?”

“That’s one word for it,” Tony mutters, lips quirking up helplessly when Blondie laughs.

“Well, thanks for that,” Blondie says. “I hope you have a nice day.”

“I will now,” Tony grins, and on impulse, leans up-- _fucking Christ_ , the man is tall-- to kiss a still ruddy cheek. “See you later, gorgeous,” he whispers, and walks away before he can ask for his number.

\- - - - -

It’s not that Tony forgets about the guy-- he doesn’t think that’s even remotely possible. But as the day goes on, he lets his school work take over him once more, and by the time his last class is over, the only thing on his mind is getting back to his messy clutter of an apartment.

Which is why he almost misses Blondie as he’s making his way back to the outskirts of campus. But really, in hindsight, those shoulders would be impossible to miss.

And those arms.

And those thighs-- are they actual tree trunks? Jesus.

So he doesn’t think it unreasonable to head the man’s way again. “Still here?” he calls out, and Blondie whirls around to face him.

“Yes, sir,” he smiles. 

God, Tony’s heart really needs to stop skipping beats. That can’t be healthy. “Did you even go to class?”

“Didn’t have any,” Blondie replies. “And the art center’s closed for renovations, so I had a free day.”

“And you decided to waste it by cuddling strangers?”

“It’s not a waste, and I didn’t even end up hugging that many people.”

“Fucking idiots, all of them,” Tony says. “Seriously, who the hell’d pass _you_ up?”

“I don’t mind,” Blondie shrugs. “It’s up to them. And to be honest, after the last girl tried to grope me... well, I’m looking forward to going home just a little bit more.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame her,” Tony says, “but consent is totally a thing, and if she can’t see that, fuck her.”

“Wouldn’t put it quite like that,” Blondie laughs, “but thanks for the support.”

“My pleasure,” Tony smirks. “Literally.”

Blondie rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “Did you, uh, come back for more cuddles?”

“Well, I sure wouldn’t be opposed to ‘em. But mostly, I just really wanna know why you’re doing this.”

“Oh, um... my best friend says I give the best hugs--”

“I don’t even know you, and I can second that.”

Blondie grins. “Thanks. And anyway, I just... well, I thought it’d be nice to... maybe someone here needed the support today, and if I could give ‘em a bit of a boost, I’m more than happy to.”

“You cannot be real,” Tony decides, trying not to let his eyes roam too shamelessly. “I think I, uh, might need to make some more observations. Y’know, for-- for science and all that.”

“Y’know, if you want more cuddles, Mister--”

“Tony. Stark.”

“Mister Tony,” Blondie says, “All you need to do is ask. Steve Rogers here, at your service.”

“You totally look like a Steve,” Tony says, but wastes no time in settling himself between those already familiar arms. “So, Steve...”

“Yes, Tony?”

“Any chance you’ll be here tomorrow?” Tony asks, and revels in the laughter he can hear rumbling in Steve’s chest. There’s less people on campus now, but even though Tony can see a couple of them turn their heads in confusion, he doesn’t care.

“I think I might,” Steve replies, tightening his arms almost imperceptibly. “But maybe...” he drawls, pulling back. “Maybe I can just... give you my number?”

“And I can, what, call you up for cuddles?” 

Steve lifts his head, squaring his jaw in determination. “Or a date.”

“Deal,” Tony says, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “No take backs, Rogers,” he holds out his phone. “I expect to be wined and dined by the end of the week.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?” Steve chuckles.

Tony grins. “Call me soon and maybe you’ll find out.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” Steve smiles back, then pretty much _ends Tony’s life_ by leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. It’s warm and short, and Tony will deny the way his knees go weak until his dying day.

“Shit,” he breathes, and feels Steve’s breath down to his neck as the blond pulls away. 

“I promise I won’t keep you waiting too long--”

“Don’t keep me waiting at all, handsome,” Tony says, facing Steve even as he walks away. “Chop chop, Rogers. And thanks for the ‘boost’!”

Steve’s voice as he says goodbye follows him long after they’ve lost sight of each other, but Tony’s not even a block away before his phone dings in his hand.

**New Text Message**

_From: Steve_

**_Tomorrow. 7 pm. Mario’s Pizza. Hope that’s not too long to wait. ;)_ **

Tony laughs down at his screen, and the smile doesn’t leave his face the whole way home.


	21. The one where... Steve bakes for the bae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #8: “Kiss me, please.”
> 
> Sequel to Chapter 15! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Kiss me, please.”

“ _What?_ ” Steve chokes, almost dropping the bowl of frosting in his hand as he whips around to look at Bucky.

“Yeah, you could always just write that on the cupcakes,” the brunet smirks, and Steve breathes a sigh of both relief and aggravation.

“I can’t just do that, Buck,” he says, and turns away to hide his blush at the thought of Tony’s face if he did.

“Why not? You’re practically asking him with this-- it’s not like you’re baking for anyone else.”

“They’re… ‘thank-you-for-helping-me-win-Class-President’ cupcakes,” Steve replies.

Bucky scoffs. “Maybe that’d work on someone who doesn’t know you as well, but you’re not fooling me, Stevie. You’re so obvious, it’s almost sad.”

“Can you just…” Steve trails off, putting the frosting down to glare at his friend. His heart gives a tiny lurch when he thinks about Tony’s bright, gorgeous eyes, his mischievous smirk that leaves Steve breathless. “I can’t,” he whispers morosely.

“I love you, man, but you’re an idiot. So what, you’re just gonna leave ‘em empty?”

Steve can only nod, and the huff of resignation Bucky lets out stays with him for the rest of the day.

\- - - - -

The plastic tupperware in his hand feels unusually heavy as he carries with him through the school halls the next morning, and it’s almost a relief when he spots Tony leaning against his locker, chuckling at something on his phone. Steve squares his shoulders, takes a breath, and makes his way up to him.

“Morning,” he says, and then goes right back to feeling breathless when Tony looks up and grins.

“How goes it, mister President?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but returns the smile. “Please don’t call me that,” he replies, and holds out the container. “But here, I, uh… made you these.”

“Well ain’t you a sweetheart,” Tony breathes, slipping a finger under the lid to swipe a generous amount of the frosting, and Steve almost swallows his tongue when the brunet proceeds to lick it off his finger. “Thanks, cupcake,” he says after, reaching up to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek.

“Th-thanks,” Steve stammers, cheeks flaming at the fondness in those brown eyes, and the faint scent of strawberry on Tony’s breath as he pulls away.

“What’s the occasion?” Tony asks.

“I just– I wanted to…” _Tell you you’re my best friend and the best part of my day and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you._ “Say how much I… appreciate you.”

“Hmmm, I appreciate you too, stud,” Tony looks up at him through dark lashes.

God, Steve wants to kiss him more than he’s ever wanted to do anything in his life. “Okay,” is all he can say.

“Want a taste?”

 _Yes!_ “Oh no, thanks,” he shakes his head. “I’ve already had more than I can count.”

“You’d never know, with abs like those,” Tony pokes Steve’s stomach. “You’re literally unfair, y’know.”

Steve smiles hesitantly. “I’m…sorry?”

“That makes one of us, ‘cause I’m sure as hell not,” Tony mutters, as he takes a handful of Steve’s jacket sleeve and pulls him toward their first class. “Now come on, I feel like showing off my gift to the gang. You’ll protect me if they try to claw my face off to get these babies, right?”

Steve can feel the warmth of the brunet’s hand on his arm, but it’s nothing compared to the slow, heady rush of love that runs through him then. “Yeah. I’ve got you,” he says, and lets himself be whisked away.


	22. The one where... Steve’s so whipped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #9: “We’re not buying a dog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“We’re not buying a dog.”

“Uh, I’m sorry,” Tony narrows his eyes, hip cocked out as he leans against the kitchen counter, his body inches away from where Steve is standing. “Did you just _tell_ me what we’re not doing?”

Clint and Bucky’s snickering might’ve annoyed Steve any other time, had he not been preoccupied with the smell of Tony’s cologne, the sharp lines of his suit as they hugged every inch of a body Steve’s been dreaming of running his lips over. As it is, he barely manages to square his shoulders and nod. “I did,” he says. “We’re not buying a dog, Tony.”

“Whose building is this?”

“Yours, but that’s not--”

“Who has semi-sentient pets that he already takes care of?”

“...You, i guess.”

“Who’s the billionaire here?”

Steve sighs. “You.”

“Who’s the smartest?”

“You--”

“The sexiest?”

“You,” Steve says, then slaps a hand over his mouth. He can hear the rest of the team still laughing, but can’t even look away from the bright, triumphant gleam in Tony’s eyes, or the mischievous quirk of his lips.

“I’m flattered, Captain,” the brunet purrs. “I’ll admit, this is a bit of a shock--”

“I didn’t--that’s not-- I was just,” Steve stutters. “You tricked me.”

“Didn’t think you felt that way about me.”

Steve can’t help but chuckle, even as his cheeks heat up more and he rolls his eyes. “You are a _child_ , I swear.”

Tony licks his lips. “You walked right into it, Cap.”

“Even _I_ saw that one coming, Stevie,” Bucky laughs, and just shrugs when Steve glares at him.

“You’re not as quick as you think you are, though,” he tells Tony. “Distracting me won’t change the fact that we’re not buying a dog.”

“Why the fuck not?” Tony demands.

“It’s a lot of responsibility--”

“We’re not kids, y’know.”

“But let’s face it, I’ll be the one actually taking care of it.”

“That’s not--”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Steve orders, eyebrows raised in challenge.

Tony fidgets and frowns, but doesn’t look away. “It’s not my fault you’re such a mother hen. I just... I really want one. I promise we’ll help--”

“Hey!” Clint calls out. “Speak for yourself. Don’t drag us into this.”

“Do you or do you not want a dog?” Tony snaps.

“Well yeah, but--”

Tony points at them. “Okay, see?” He tells Steve. “We’ll take care of it too. Scout’s honor. Come on, hmmm?” He leans forward an inch or two, until his fingers are brushing Steve’s. “Let’s buy a dog? I’ll let you pick it and name it.”

His voice is soft and lazy, and Steve knows he’s already lost. “You pick, I name,” he sighs.

Tony jumps to wrap his arms around Steve’s neck. “Thanks, gumdrop! Oh god, okay, y’know what, let’s go get one now, I’ll look everything up on the way--”

“Wait, but your meeting--”

“That’s not important,” the brunet scoffs, pulling at Steve’s sleeve as he waves to the rest of the room. “We’ve got a new arrival to bring home!”

“You sound like parents,” Natasha smirks. “It’s disturbing.”

“Whatever, Auntie Nat,” Tony calls out, and cackles when a dagger suddenly hits the wall beside the elevator doors.

“One of these days, she’s not gonna miss,” Steve mutters.

“She loves me too much,” Tony grins. “But enough of her-- let’s go get our baby.”

“It’s not an actual baby, Tony.”

“I can pretend, can’t I?”

“Didn’t know you were so eager to have a baby with me,” Steve smirks, ignoring the shiver that runs through him at the thought.

But Tony returns the smirk even as he blushes the most adorable shade of pink Steve’s ever seen. “The best part’s making one, y’know.”

“God, you’re absolutely shameless,” Steve shakes his head disbelievingly.

Tony winks roguishly. “Only with you, apple pie.”

\- - - - -

“Who’s a good girl, huh? Who’s a good girl?” Tony coos, nose buried in the tiny black bundle in his arms. “ _You_ are! Jesus, I’m gonna vomit, she’s so fucking cute.”

 _She’s not the only one_ , Steve thinks, and reaches out to pat the pug’s paw with a finger. “She seems calm.”

“Well that’s ‘cause she’s a good girl,” Tony replies. “They’re gonna fall over themselves right now, just you watch.”

“As long as you keep your promise. She needs a lot of attention, Tony.”

“Yeah yeah,” the brunet sighs, giving him a fond eye roll, but he’s still smiling as he looks back down. “Daddy’s just being boring right now, princess, but I swear he’s not that bad--”

“What--”

“--he’s actually a sarcastic little shit most of the time--”

“--it takes one to know one, now, doesn’t it?--”

“--and y’know, kind of irritatingly perfect--”

“--Tony, this is ridiculous, stop it. Why is this elevator so damn slow--”

“But guess what? He also gives the best hugs.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat, and he grins as he meets warm, brown ones. “Yeah?” he whispers, but Tony shushes him dramatically.

“And he’s always good for keeping the nightmares away... You couldn’t ask for a better guy.”

“Tony--” he starts, but the elevator comes to a stop with a gentle jolt, and Tony walks out with a look over his shoulder.

“Come on, Winghead. Puppy’s gotta meet the fam.”

“Lyla.”

“What?”

“I can name her, right? Since you picked her.”

“Captain’s orders,” Tony nods.

“Then I want to name her Lyla,” Steve says. “It means--”

“Night,” Tony finishes. “Arabic, yeah, I know.”

Steve nods. “Yeah?”

“...I like it.”

“Okay,” Steve smiles. “Let’s go, then. Should we shower her later? I’ll check the care guide.”

“God,” Tony groans, just as they reach the living room. “You’re so responsible, it gives me hives.”

“Can it and keep walking.”

“Sir, yes sir!”


	23. The one where... Steve just wants to marry Tony, damn it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March prompt #10: “I can’t marry you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I can’t marry you.”

Instead of the panic that Steve thinks he should be feeling, he sighs, dropping his pencil atop the sketchbook in his lap. “What is it now?”

Tony all but throws himself on him, waving a large sheet of paper in his face as he slumps into the couch with a groan.

“Look at this, Steve.”

“The... seating chart,” Steve realizes, catching the layout sketched out across the paper, tiny little strips of post-its scattered all around. “For the wedding?”

“And the reception.”

“Okay,” Steve nods. “So what’s the problem--”

Tony shoves the paper in his face. “I’ll tell you what the problem is,” he snaps. “Look at how many people you have coming from your side.”

“Umm,” Steve pulls back to count the blue strips. “Twenty... two? I know it’s not that many--”

“Now look at mine,” Tony smiles, but it’s the one Steve likes least-- brittle and thin, razor sharp. And when he looks back at the sheet in Tony’s hand, he sees why.

“Pepper,” he reads, “Rhodey... Jarvis.”

“Can’t even fill a table. Mom--” Tony clears his throat, and Steve feels the sudden pinprick of tears at the faint echo of pain he can hear. “Mom said she’d try to make it, but... I wouldn’t bet on that.”

“Tony--”

“I mean, what does that say about me?” Tony rears back, rising to his feet to pace the length of the couch. “That I can’t even come up with enough people to fill a fucking table, huh?”

“Sweetheart,” Steve starts, but Tony just shakes his head.

“Tell me.”

“Nothing that matters, that’s what.”

“Steve-- what does that say about _you_?” Tony looks away. “That you’d wanna marry someone like m--”

“Don't say that,” Steve growls.

“But--”

“You know I don’t care about any of that, right?”

“And everyone else?” Tony asks quietly.

“They won’t either, you know that too.”

“But you don’t...You don’t-- god, can you imagine what they’ll-- I’m only using up the first bench, Jesus Christ--”

“I’m not marrying you because of your family, or your friends, or how many people are in your life, Tony,” Steve rasps, voice tight with emotion. His heart feels like it’s about to burst from pure, overwhelming love. “I wanna marry you because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you, forever. Until the day I die. I don’t give a damn if we’re the only ones at the wedding, baby-- as long as we’re _both_ there.”

“Your mother would kill us,” Tony laughs, and it’s more than a little wet, but Steve just pulls him into his arms, breathing in the scent of machinery and oil, sweat and metal, and underneath it all, the indescribable scent of Tony.

The scent of _home_.

“Not planning on throwing that ring back at me anymore, are ya?” He asks, lips brushing along Tony’s temple.

“You couldn’t pry it off my cold, dead hands,” Tony replies, pulling back. “This is mine-- forever.”

“I like the sound of that,” Steve grins, and leans in to taste the smile on Tony’s lips.


	24. The one where... they miss each other, and one of them does something about it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #11: “When’s the last time I said I love you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“ _When’s the last time I said I love you?_ ”

“Three days ago,” Tony says, tucking the phone between his head and his shoulder. “The last time we talked.”

“ _When’s the last time you told_ me _you loved me?_ ”

“This morning. I do it every day, babe, even when I’m all by my lonesome.” Tony hears Steve’s sigh, low and tinny, and closes his eyes at the familiar pang of longing. “I miss you.”

“ _Miss you too, sweetheart._ ”

“How’s the gang?”

“ _I think they’re half crazy by now-- no villains since you left._ ”

“They miss me too, huh?”

Steve chuckles. “ _I’m not complainin’. But we’re all fine. How’s Japan?_ ”

“Boring, without you. Pep’s keeping me sane, but everybody knows I’m just here to wave and look pretty.”

“ _Maybe I should get on a jet and fly you back here, huh?_ ”

“And make everyone’s day? I don’t think so,” Tony huffs. “If I’m miserable, the whole fucking world’s gonna be miserable with me. You’re so hot when you get all Captain-y, though.”

“ _Well, uh... I don’t know how you’re gonna react right now, then,_ ” Steve says, and then Tony’s heart skips a beat when he hears a knock on his suite door.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. “You _didn’t._ ”

“ _Open the door and find out,_ ” Steve continues, and Tony almost brains himself on a table when he can hear the blond’s voice beyond the door.

“ _Oh god_ ,” he throws open the door, and thinks he might cry when he sees Steve grinning back, phone still pressed against his ear.

“Hi, baby,” the blond says, but Tony just pulls him into the room and kisses the smile off those lips.

“I can’t-- _mhmmm_ \-- fucking b-believe you’re here-- _God_ ,” he mumbles against Steve’s lips, against his cheek, his nose, his eyes, every part of his face he can reach. Steve’s arms are tight around his waist, holding Tony to that muscled chest he loves so much. He palms the skin over Steve’s heart and revels in the strong, sure beat he can feel beneath. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too,” Steve breathes against Tony’s lips, then pulls back with a soft smile. “Happy?”

“Go lock the door and I’ll show you how much.”

“Yes sir,” Steve smirks, eyes suddenly hooded and dark with desire.

“Jesus, I missed you.”

“Back atcha, Mr. Stark.”


	25. The one where... Pepper figures it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #12: “I miss you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I miss you.”

The long, determined steps Pepper’d been taking on her way to the Stark Tower common room taper down to slow, careful ones at the sound of Tony’s softly hushed words. At first, she thinks about turning around, because if the man has company, the last thing either of them will want is for her to interrupt anything. But when she dares to take a peek into the room, she frowns when she sees it empty.

“ _I miss you too, Tony_.” Steve’s voice is everywhere-- low and clear from the tower speakers-- and that’s when Pepper remembers Tony’s face when he’d told her that half the team had been called away on SHIELD business. “ _We didn’t think it’d take this long._ ”

“Who the hell’s running these things?” Tony asks from the direction of the couch, and Pepper knows she should leave, because she doesn’t need to hear any more to know this is a private conversation. But there’s something in her ex-boss’ voice she’s never heard before, a wistfulness and vulnerability she’s always known lies behind those dark eyes and razor sharp tongue. “They’ll be packing up their boxes in an hour when I find ‘em.”

“ _It happens sometimes, Shellhead,_ ” Steve chuckles. “ _Bugs me somethin’ fierce, though_.”

“God, I’ll never get tired of hearing you go Brooklyn,” Tony sighs. “It’s so...”

“ _So what?_ ”

“I-- I don’t know,” Tony replies, and Pepper sees the tip of his hand over the back of the couch as he waves it around vaguely. “I just... like it.”

“ _Glad I could meet your approval, Mr. Stark._ ”

“Tone down the sarcasm, Rogers. Can’t you see we’re having a moment?”

“ _If you say so,_ ” Steve hums, and then--

“ _Heyyyyy,_ ” someone crows, obnoxiously loud in the comfortable silence that’d been there only a moment before. “ _Whosat? Who y’talking toooo?_ ”

“ _Clint_ ,” Steve sighs, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “ _Can ya maybe-- Natasha, can you just... there y’go. And don’t--_ ”

“Is that Clint?” Tony laughs. “Is he... drunk?”

“ _Bucky managed to find a barrel of Russian Moonshine around here._ ”

Pepper hears Tony whistle. “Shit. How much’d he drink?”

“ _Half a glass_ ,” Steve gasps, the sound of his low, rumbled laughter echoing through the room. “ _This is the last thing we need right now._ ”

“Tell him hi from me,” Tony says. Steve does so with a sigh, and then Pepper almost jumps when--

“ _Tonyyyyy, heyyyyy. Wha_ \--” Clint hiccups “-- _whatcha doin’?_ ”

“Talking to you.” The words are half muffle into a cushion, and Pepper smiles at the image of the brunet hiding his laughter into the couch. “Heard you’re having fun over there.”

“ _Th’best, Tonyyyyy,_ ” Clint giggles. “ _Wish y’was here, buddyyyyy._ ”

“That’s a first,” Tony huffs.

“ _Yeah, mostly-- mostly ‘cuz Cap’s moping_ \--”

“ _Clint,_ ” Steve growls faintly. “ _Give me the phone_ \--”

“ _Even Barnesssss’s tired’f it. Didja know Rogers’s got you as ‘is wall_ \--” another hiccup “ _\--wallpaper?_ ”

Pepper hears Natasha faintly swearing in Russian, the sound of a brief scuffle, and then Steve’s low hesitant voice. “ _Hello?_ ”

“Cap,” Tony says, and Pepper smiles at the breathlessness in that single syllable. “You should, uh, probably hide the rest of the juice from that guy, yeah?”

“ _We did. Sorry about that_ \--”

“I’m not,” Tony replies. “That was amazing. Make sure you bring the barrel back, though.”

Steve hums out a laugh. “ _Afraid I can’t do that_ ,” he says. “ _But I filled up a couple of glass bottles_.”

“God bless Captain America,” Pepper hears Tony crow. “Always thinkin’ about the people.”

“ _Just you, Shellhead._ ”

“Sounds like you’re, uh... having a nice time.”

“ _It’d be better with you_ ,” Steve says, and Pepper thinks she might be the only one to hear Tony’s answering sigh.

“Which picture is it?” He asks softly. There’s a moment of silence, and then--

“ _It’s... Last week, when we marathoned Star Trek down in the workshop. I can’t even-- I can’t remember what you said, but... It’s silly, but I just... I’m sorry, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can just_ \--”

“No,” Tony says loudly, and finally sits up. There’s a tender quirk to his lips, and it makes something warm bloom in Pepper’s chest, something that feels like relief and hope. “It’s fine,” he finishes. “I wish I could see it.”

“ _Just a couple more days_ ,” Steve sighs.

“Tony Stark doesn’t do patience, y’know. Finish it up and get back here.”

“ _Sir, yes sir._ ”

Tony laughs, loud and clear and happy, and when Pepper walks back the way she came, she finds she feels just the same.


	26. The one where... Steve and Tony make a great team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #13: “It killed me to see you with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never did this project, but I think it would’ve been fun! :P
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“It killed me to see you with him.”

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad--”

“You almost dropped him!”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Okay, dial it back on the hysterics, Rogers--”

“This is our grade, Tony,” Steve replies, fluffing up the cushions surrounding their project. “And if you’re gonna share responsibility--”

“I’m sure as hell not gonna leave you to do it alone--”

“Then you gotta be a little more careful. Don’t swing the basket so hard, and keep him comfy.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you forget that it’s just an egg,” Tony teases, bumping shoulders with the blond as they sit side by side at their lunch table.

“How can I forget?” Steve smiles. “All your egg jokes won’t let me.”

“I’m the fun dad, obviously. You’re boring one, honey pie. Sorry,” Tony shrugs, rocking the miniaturized baby carrier in front of them. “I wonder who this one’ll take after.”

“You’re an idiot and I can’t believe we’re friends.”

“Love you too, Cap.”

\- - - - -

“ _I killed her._ ”

Tony almost stumbles into Steve when Clint barrels into them at the library during free period. “What the fuck--”

“Nat’s gonna kill me,” Clint whispers, pale like Tony’s never seen him. “Shit, shit, _shit_ \--”

Steve grabs him by the arm. “What. Happened.”

“I killed her.”

“Killed _who_?” Tony almost screams, but spots the librarian eyeing them from the corner of his eye.

“Tatiana,” Clint whispers. “It was an accident, shit, don’t let Nat find me, I swear I only looked away for a _second_ \--”

“Oh no,” Steve sighs, then looks around furtively. “Where is she now?”

“I panicked and tossed her in the dumpster behind the gym.”

“Not the egg, you moron,” Tony hisses, and gives in to the urge to cradle his own egg closer. “Where’s _Nat_?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Clint flails. “But I’m so dead, she’s gonna murder me. I gotta go, forget I was here,” he points a finger at them, then at the egg. “If she finds me, I’m coming back and killing Peter.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Steve hums, waving at the other blond as he disappears into the book stacks around them.

“At least we’re not _them_ ,” Tony points out after a while.

Steve laughs softly. “Small mercies,” he says. “I’m glad you’re my partner.”

“Even if I almost killed our kid?”

“I like to think you’d be a little more careful if we ever had one,” Steve replies, and Tony looks away to hide the hitch in his breath.

“‘Course I would,” he whispers. “We make a kick-ass team.”

“The _best_.”


	27. The one where... Steve and Tony babysit some baby Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #14: “I don’t know what to say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I didn’t call you down here so you could speak,” Fury grumbles. “I called you here because--”

“ _Steeb_!” Barnes squeals, and climbs Steve’s legs until he can settle his tiny limbs into the blond’s lap.

“Let me guess,” Tony says. “You’ve signed us up for babysitting?”

“Just until we can get Thor back Earth-side with some answers.” Fury replies.

“How long might that be?” Steve asks, patting his friend’s back gently.

Tony looks down at the teammate sitting by his feet, and huffs out a laugh at the sight of a young Clint Barton gnawing on a plastic ID card. He crouches down to pull it away, and the archer relents with a displeased glare. “Hey, none of that,” Tony hums. “Be a good little Barton and we’ll get you a pizza--”

“ _Pizzaaaaaaaaaa_ ,” Clint crows, clapping happily.

“I wan’ Peppewoni!” Sam slams his hands on the conference table, bouncing in his seat beside Steve.

“Cheese!” Barnes says, nodding decidedly.

“ _Я хочу цыпленка,_ ” a tiny voice whispers in Tony’s ear, and little arms wind themselves around his neck a moment later. He turns instinctively, and Natasha settles into his arms without another word, red curls tucking themselves neatly under his chin.

“Think you can repeat that?” he asks. “In English?”

“She said she wants chicken!” Clint shrieks, and more than one person in the room winces at the volume.

“You speak Russian, Barton?”

Clint nods. “ _Tashatashatashatasha_ ,” he says, “you wan’ pizza?”

“ _Да, пожалуйста._ ”

“Sh’said okay.”

“Me too,” comes Bruce’s quiet, shy reply.

“Alright,” Steve announces, rising from his seat without breaking his hold on Barnes. There’s a determined set to his jaw that Tony knows all too well, and he mentally bids goodbye to any work for the next couple of days. “Permission to return to the tower, sir?”

Fury nods. “Go on, get,” he waves them off.

Steve turns to the rest of the team. “Avengers, move out,” he grins, and leaves the room. Tony can’t hold back a laugh as his teammates follow him in a straight line, like little baby ducklings after their mother.

“I’ll let you know as soon as Thor touches down,” Fury says.

“You’d better,” is all Tony says, and then he’s out the door as well.

\- - - - -

“Where’s duh pizza?” Clint asks, as soon as they corral their charges off the elevator and into the Stark Tower living room. “We wan’ pizza!”

“Ever hear of inside voices?” Tony mutters, but helps Steve settle them all on the couches. “Jay, pizza status?”

“ _Currently en route, Sir._ ”

“JARBIS!” Barnes grins up at the ceiling, waving at nowhere in particular. “Hi, JARBIS!”

“ _Sergeant Barnes,_ ” comes the smooth, low, reply. “ _Welcome back._ ”

Tony looks over at his Captain. “He got that from you, y’know.”

“Hey, nobody told me he wasn’t actually in the ceiling,” Steve grins. “‘s just a habit now. You said it was cute the first time.”

“No, I said _you_ were cute,” Tony points out, and smirks at the other man’s blush.

“Charmer,” Steve sighs. “Still your fault.”

“Like always,” Tony rolls his eyes fondly.

“No, just twelve percent of the time,” Steve winks.

Tony’s traitorous heart skips a beat. “Who’s the charmer now?”

“ _Pizza!_ ”

“Patience, my young padawan,” he looks down at Barton, who frowns.

“But I’m hungwy.”

“When are you _not_?”

Steve laughs beside him. “I’ll call Coulson for some clothes.”

“Just get ‘em all onesies,” Tony suggests.

“Keep running that mouth, and I’ll make ‘em all Iron Man ones.”

“You wouldn’t.”

\- - - - -

“I can’t believe you did it.”

“Can’t believe you didn’t think I would,” Steve smirks.

“They’re...” Tony waves in the direction of the couch, where all of their Iron Man-clad teammates munch on their pizza slices, and almost laughs when he spots a glop of tomato sauce on the top of Barton’s hood. “I feel like a cult leader.”

“Well, you sure talk a lot about Iron Man being a religion.”

Tony shakes his head. “You’re an ass and I hate you-- hey, Wilson, eat that crust.”

“I don’ like cwust!” Sam whines, almost smacking Barnes in the face as he waves the bread in his hand.

“It’s just bread without sauce, tweety bird. And cheese. It’s not gross.”

“...okay.”

Steve leans in towards Tony, brushing shoulders as they eat their own slices. “You’re good with ‘em.”

“I haven’t done shit,” Tony scoffs. “You’re the one who actually got all them dressed.”

“They weren’t complaining. Everybody loves Iron Man.”

Tony looks down. “Yeah...”

“But I think,” Steve says, and there’s a smile in his voice Tony doesn’t even have to look at him to see. “I think they like you even more.”

“Rogers--”

“So do I.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that more times than I can count.”

“Then why don’t you believe us?”

Tony finally looks up at him at that, taking in Steve’s frown and the steely determination in his baby blues, as if he were already gearing up for a fight. “It’s not that I don’t--”

“Except it is,” Steve says. “Because you don’t.”

“Cap--”

“One day, I’m gonna sit you down and we’re gonna have this conversation if I have to tie you down to a chair.”

“Kinky,” Tony smirks, like a reflex and a shield all at once.

It works, mostly, because Steve rolls his eyes and bumps Tony’s shoulder. Figures Steve Rogers would be the only person more stubborn than him. “You’re lucky there’s kids around right now--”

“I just see pint-sized monsters,” Tony points out, and yelps when Steve jabs him in the stomach. “Hey!”

“Otherwise, we’d be having words. Maybe with feelings.”

“Ugh, don’t even--”

“And maybe there’d be some tears--”

“--I’m getting hives, I swear--”

“--and more’n a couple of hugs--”

“Like hell--”

“I wanna hug!” Barnes yells from across the room.

“Finish your pizza first,” Tony replies. “And you don’t need to hide everyone’s crust in your pocket, kid. We can just order more later.”

“No, we’re not getting pizza again later,” Steve shakes his head. “Their stomachs’ll never let ‘em sleep.”

Clint and Sam whine their displeasure even as they lick the rest of the tomato sauce from their fingers, and Natasha chews her pizza silently, narrowed green eyes peeking out from under her hood as she sits curled up beside Bruce.

“Don’t give me that face, Red,” Tony tells her. “Captain’s orders.”

Even the slow, methodical chewing looks threatening now.

“She’s going to kill us,” he whispers to Steve. “And it’s all your fault.”

Steve just laughs. “I’ll protect you, Tony.”

“You’re a little shit.”

“Mmm, love you too, Shellhead.”


	28. The one where... Tony doesn't mind a little weight on his chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #15: “I can’t breathe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I can’t breathe.”

Steve’s voice is low and quiet, as soft as the world around them right now. “She’s not _that_ heavy, sweetheart.”

“Well she’s tiny and all, so yeah,” Tony whispers. “But diminished lung capacity here, babe.”

“Pass her over, then. Come on,” Steve makes grabby hands, but smiles when Tony just tightens his arms around their sleeping daughter.

“No, she’s mine.”

“Then quit complainin’ and go back to sleep.”

“You’re so crabby in the mornings,” Tony grins. “I love it.”

“And I love you,” Steve says, “but if you wake her up, I want a divorce.”

“I’d like to see you try, honey bunch. You’re stuck with me until we kick the bucket.”

“Or your daughter kills us for waking her up.”

“What’s she gonna do,” Tony chuckles, “kiss us to death?”

Before Steve can reply, their daughter whimpers in displeasure, wriggling slowly on Tony’s chest, and both of them go silent as they wait for her to drift back to sleep.

But it seems today’s not their day-- or maybe it is, because really, any moment Tony spends with his baby girl is a good one-- because he sees Steve’s eyes soften, like they always do when their kid’s involved, and then a second later, he hears their daughter’s sweet, whisper soft voice.

“Papa?”

“Shhh, shhhh,” Steve whispers. “Go back to sleep, angel. Shhhhh...”

“I not sleepy,” she says, even as Tony feels her yawn into his shirt. “Papa, wan’ pancakes.”

Tony chuckles triumphantly, but stops when she lifts her head to glare at him.

“Daddy,” she grumbles, blue eyes blurred from sleep, and she’s still the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen.

“Yes, baby?”

“Daddy, I not funny.”

“Who told you that?” Tony scoffs, settling her higher up his chest until he can kiss her cheek. “You’re a riot, pumpkin.”

“I not a pum’kin,” she giggles, unruly curls tickling Tony’s chin. “‘m a pwincess.”

“Who will have her pancakes if she goes back to sleep, at least until the sun comes out,” Steve cuts in, shuffling closer to them so he can wrap his arm around them both.

“I not sleepy, Daddy,” their daughter repeats, but she yawns again and rubs her eyes a second later.

“Come on,” Steve coos, “I know you’re still sleepy, sweetheart. You can stay here with me and Daddy, all warm and cozy, yeah?”

“‘Kay,” she breathes, and Tony hums when Steve leans in to kiss her cheek.

“Still want a divorce?” he asks.

Steve’s laugh is warm against Tony’s lips. “Stop talkin’ nonsense, mister. You’re stuck with me too.”

“Just my luck,” Tony sighs, and breathes in the scent of home until he drifts off as well.


	29. The one where... Tony's stuck with Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #16: “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

The large, cream colored envelope had felt heavy in Tony’s hand. Now it sits, unopened, on the passenger’s seat as he makes the short drive to Steve’s house, but Tony still feels a weight in his chest. 

He knows what it says.

Steve’s already outside when Tony turns the street, and the sight of his best friend makes him drive just a little faster the rest of the way.

“Didja open it?” Steve asks, before Tony’s even fully out the door.

“Nope,” he replies, and holds out the envelope to the blond. “Wanna do it for me?”

“It’s yours, Tony,” Steve shakes his head, but the smile on his face leaves no doubt that he already knows what’s inside. “Just do it already, wouldja?”

“Don’t rush me,” Tony slaps his arm. “We have to savor this moment?”

“Can we do it after? Open it so we can know for sure.”

“Why did I even come here?” Tony mutters. “You’re not being very supportive right now.”

“Oh, sorry I’m not feeding your ego like everyone else,” Steve smirks. “Your head’s already big enough as it is.”

“Baby, you have no idea,” Tony waggles his eyebrows, and lets out a rare giggle when Steve groans.

“Okay, I completely walked into that one,” Steve says, burying his face in his hands. “But stop stallin’ and get on with it.”

“Bossy bossy,” Tony mumbles, but breaks the seal with surprisingly steady fingers, and when he pulls out the papers inside, he doesn’t have to read beyond the first line to look up with a smile. “Guess who’s going to MIT in the fall?”

“Justin Hammer?” Steve grins.

“You’re an ass,” Tony says, but smiles when he’s pulled into a warm, muscled hug.

“I always knew you’d make it,” he hears Steve say, voice firm and unwavering, and so proud, it almost brings tears to his eyes.

“‘Course you did,” he replies into the blond’s shoulder. “I was a total shoo-in, y’know.”

“Still,” Steve says, still smiling brightly when he pulls away. “It’s good to know I won’t be going up to Cambridge alone.”

“Wh-- wait, what?” Tony breathes, and feels his heart skip a beat when Steve pulls out a folded paper from behind him. “Rogers--”

Steve smiles, and looks down. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” he says softly. “Wasn’t even sure I was gonna get in, to be honest--”

“Get in _where_?”

Steve holds out his hand. “Mass Art.”

“Oh my god, you fucking-- I can’t believe--” Tony stammers, this time, when he unfolds the sheet of paper, his fingers do tremble. “So...” he clears his throat, “you and me, Boston in the fall? Apartment hunting in the summer, road trip in September?”

“Yes, yes, and yes. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, ” Steve chuckles, and Tony feels the warm tendrils of relief run through him as he leans his head on the blond’s shoulder.

“That’s good to know.”


	30. The one where... Steve’s a doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #17: “Hello gorgeous, do I know you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Hello, gorgeous, do I know you?”

Steve doesn’t startle at the smooth, playful voice of his patient, but when he looks up from the chart in his hand, he almost stumbles from the big brown eyes aimed his way. “Mr. Stark,” he says, clearing his throat to regain his composure. “How are you feeling?”

“Like the luckiest sunnuva bitch in th’world,” the brunet purrs, and even with his head wrapped with a bandage, he still manages to look roguishly handsome as he smirks.

The woman standing next to him, all bright red hair and crisp suit lines, sighs into her hand. “Tony, can you just… This is a _hospital._ ”

Steve tries so hard to ignore the warmth he can feel in his cheeks. “You’re pretty lucky, sir. You took a nasty fall, and you could’ve cracked your skull.”

“Still woulda been worth it, just to see your face.”

 _God, how he’s trying…_ “You still feelin’ any pain?”

“Not as much as you must’ve when you fell fr’m heaven.”

“ _Tony_!”

A burst of laughter leaves Steve’s lips before he can stop it, loud and utterly unprofessional, and really, Dr. Erksine would be rolling over in his grave if he could see Steve now. “Mr. Stark,” he says slowly, as firm as he can manage. “I need you to tell me how you feel.”

“Tony.”

“Yes, that’s your name,” Steve nods, stepping further into the room as he reaches for his penlight.

“What’s yours, handsome?”

“I’m Dr. Rogers. Do you know where you are?”

“Last I remember, I still lived in New York.”

“Good,” Steve smiles sympathetically when he shines the light in the brunet eyes and he winces. “Sorry about that. But the good news is that you’re most likely just fine. Your head’ll be aching something fierce, but the worst seems to be over. We’ll be taking an MRI scan, though, just to be sure. Do I have your permission to do so, Mr. Stark?”

“You can scan me anywhere you like,” Tony bites his lip suggestively.

“You are absolute impossible, aren’t you?” Steve sighs, unable to keep the fondness from his voice. “Here,” he slides a tray table beside the bed closer. “Have a pudding cup in the meantime. ”

“Bet you’d taste sweeter.”

“It’s an absolute wonder you ever get anything done, if this is what you’re like all the time.”

“‘Multitasker’ is my middle name,” Tony grins.

“And here I thought it was Edward,” Steve waves the patient chart with a smirk of his own.

Tony blinks, then turns to the woman next to him. “So you’ve finally turned on me.”

“You should be grateful I was still willing to fill out all those papers,” the woman rolls her eyes, despite the faint concern Steve can read on her face. “I’m not your PA anymore.”

“But I’m always gonna need you, Pepper-pot.”

“So he’s okay?” She turns to Steve, after a fond smile at the brunet. “Will I be able to take him home today?”

“Unless the scans show something I haven’t caught,” Steve replies, “he should be good to go. Can’t fall asleep for a couple’a hours, though– it was a pretty nasty concussion.”

“And I was so looking forward to dreaming about you,” Tony winks. 

Steve looks down at the chart to hide his smile. “That’ll have to wait, like I said.”

“Lucky for me, ‘patient’ is also my middle name.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

Tony’s grin is lecherous. “That’s what he said.”

“Oh my god, I’m leaving,” the woman throws her hands up helplessly. “I’ll get Happy to come by later, okay? I need to go make sure your company doesn’t take a dive like you did,” she tells Tony, before turning to Steve an holding out a hand. “Take care of him, Dr. Rogers.”

“Scout’s honor,” he nods, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms…”

“Virginia. Potts,” she replies. Her smile is friendly and professional all at once. “And don’t let him talk you into anything, either.”

“Somethin’ tells me that’s easier said than done,” he chuckles bashfully.

“I’ve got a feeling you can hold your own,” she says, and leaves the room with a final kiss to Tony’s bandaged temple.

“Is there any way we can, y’know, skip the scans?” the brunet asks when Steve turns back to him, fiddling with the edge of one sleeve. “I’m… not a fan of small spaces.” He sounds anything but cocksure now, and even though he’s pretty much a stranger, Steve feels a warm rush of protectiveness sweep over him.

“I know it won’t be fun,” he says gently. “But it’s for your own good. It won’t take long, and I’ll be right there with you– well, not in there, obviously, I can’t–” he stammers, “because I have to stay in the, uh, observation room next door. But you’ll be fine. I promise.”

“There is no way you should be just as cute when you’re flustered,” Tony mumbles, and there’s a soft smile on his face Steve doesn’t want to look away from. “I really lucked out today, fuck.”

“Impossible man,” Steve shakes his head, but he’s surprised at the fondness he can hear in his own voice.

\- - - - -

By the time they get back to the room, and despite the way he’d tensed up throughout the whole procedure, Tony’s a bundle of playfulness now, talking Steve’s ear off as he’s wheeled down the halls.

“Doesn’t seem very nice to name a robot Dummy.”

“That’s because you don’t know him, hot stuff,” Tony grins up at him over his shoulder. “Thing’s as dumb as… well, a box full’a bolts.”

“Still, it’s pretty impressive stuff.” Steve admits.

“You should see my AI.”

“Using your tech to get a date, boss?”

Both of them look up at the new voice, Tony making grabby hands as the burly, suited man standing at the window. “Come to take me home, Happy?”

“Sure am, boss,” the man nods. 

“He’s all better now, as you can see,” Steve smiles, ignoring the faint thread of disappointment he can feel in his chest at the thought of not seeing Tony again.

“Yeah, seems it, huh, Mr. Stark?”

Tony smirks. “All thanks to the good Doc.”

“Ms. Potts was right– you’ve got it bad,” the man chuckles, and Steve’s heart skips a beat.

“Wait outside, will ya?” Tony shoos him out, and then they’re alone again. “My best friend says I’m shameless,” he says, rising from the wheelchair to stand in front of him.

“Um,” Steve says.

“And this is probably really fucking unprofessional,” Tony continues, “but I’m totally using my robots to get a date.”

“With…me?”

“No, with the other Big, Blond and Beautiful who took care of me today.”

Steve’s smile is probably just a little too giddy. “Well, I think Nurse Odinson would be flattered, but he’s engaged to Dr. Foster here in Neurology, and I wouldn’t wanna get on her bad side.”

Tony’s laughter is loud and bright, and the most beautiful thing Steve’s heard in a long time. “Cute, smart, and sassy to boot. You can’t possibly be real.”

“Maybe that concussion’s got you hallucinating, then.”

“Well, you _do_ look like you’ve come straight outta my wet dreams.”

“ _Oh my god,_ ” Steve groans, holding his clipboard over his face to hide his blush. “You can’t possibly be like this all the time.”

Tony pushes the chart down. “You can find out if you say yes.”

“To what? You haven’t asked me anything yet,” Steve says, and god, he knows this is absolutely crazy– he’s on duty, they’ve barely met, and he’s never done something like this before. But Tony’s eyes are awfully beautiful, and the feeling in Steve’s chest every time he sees them is as warm as it is unfamiliar.

“Can I take you out sometime, then?” Tony smiles. “When you’ve got a free day and I’m not half dead?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Steve says. “All you did was almost brain yourself on a glass table and bleed all over your carpet.”

“Be nice to me, then, and say yes.”

Steve’s cheeks are starting to hurt by now. “Okay, yeah.”

“Perfect,” Tony nods. “Friday good?”

“My shift ends at five, so anytime after that, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“If I don’t mind,” he scoffs, and grabs Steve’s coat to kiss his cheek before Steve can do anything else. “There’s more where that came from if you’re good.”

“Shameless,” Steve says, a little breathless from the warmth of Tony’s breath on his face.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

 _True_ , Steve thinks, but he can’t wait to find out.


	31. The one where... Tony can be a sap, too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #18: “You taste like heaven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You taste like heaven.”

Steve wakes to whisper soft words spoken against his skin, feels Tony’s lips brush the edge of his shoulder, hands skimming his spine tenderly. He buries his face further into his pillow, once, twice, before turning to face the brunet.

“That doesn’ make sense,” he mumbles, glancing at Tony through one bleary eye. The covers are so soft and warm, he almost drifts back to sleep, but doesn’t get a chance before lips are on his skin again, slower and hotter this time.

“I’m a genius, babe,” Tony says. “I always make sense.”

Steve snorts into his pillow. “‘cept when you don’t. Like now.”

“Okay, let’s just agree that you’re the pretty one and I’m the smart one, yeah?” Tony smiles, all bright brown eyes and rumpled hair, and the words are out before Steve’s even finished thinking them.

“What’re ya talkin’ about-- you’re gorgeous.”

"Shut up,” Tony scoffs immediately, but Steve doesn’t miss the beautiful blush that settles across his face. “Who’s not makin’ sense now?”

“‘m serious,” he says, turning until he faces the brunet. “I could stare at you all day.”

“Steve--”

“Clint used to make fun of me, because I was always starin’ at you before. But I couldn’t help it,” he reaches out, running a thumb across Tony’s sharp, rough jaw. 

“ _Stop_ ,” Tony moans, moving closer to bury his face in Steve’s neck. “I’m trying to be romantic, you’re ruining it.”

“Sorry,” Steve chuckles, all sleep gone from his mind as he wraps his arms around that warm, familiar waist. “So, you were sayin’?”

“That you’re fucking delicious,” Tony purrs, licking and kissing the skin beneath Steve’s ear. “I could just eat you up.”

“Again?” Steve smirks. “I’m still tryin’ to catch my breath from last night,” he says, and feels Tony’s laughter rumble through them both.

“Mind out of the gutter, Captain.”

“Yes sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Jesus,” Tony groans, arching his back like a cat, and it brings their chests even closer together. “You’re a menace.”

“Takes one to know one, right?”

“Okay, moment officially over. Go on your disgusting little run and I’ll stay here like all the normal people and sleep until it’s not actually dark anymore.”

“It’s six thirty,” Steve rolls his eyes, but burrows them further under the covers. “I think I’ll stay here today, though.”

“Awwww,” Tony pulls back, grinning, “you _do_ love me, honey bunch!”

“God knows why,” Steve sighs, but when he leans in to kiss the brunet, both of them are smiling.


	32. The one where... something sad happens...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #19: “Please, just- stay. Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s sad, guys. Which is exactly why it's the shortest of my drabbles. :(((
> 
> Warnings: CHARACTER DEATH (not Steve or Tony, but still...).

“Please, just- stay. Please.”

It’s not often that words cut Tony to the core, because sometimes he thinks he might’ve been born with armor instead of skin. The ‘in one ear, out the other’ shtick is a reflex at this point, and he can’t remember a time when that wasn’t the case.

But now, Tony thinks his heart might be breaking as he hears Steve’s broken plea, as he feels those warm, gentle hands gripping his own. He inches closer to the blond until their foreheads touch. “If you think I’d actually leave you right now,” he says, his own voice rough and shaky. “You’re so fucking wrong. You-- God, Steve, you don’t even have to ask.”

Steve’s bottom lip trembles as he tries to smile. His tired, red-rimmed eyes fill with tears that fall silently down his cheeks, and the sight of them hurts Tony like nothing ever has.

“Is Bucky...” Steve whispers. “Is he...”

“Downstairs,” Tony nods. “So’s Nat and Barton, Sam, and Pep... they’re taking care of everything.”

“I should be down there, but I can’t...” Steve shakes his head. “I just n-need a-- a minute... I’m sorry--”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” Tony growls, grabbing the lapels on Steve’s black coat. “You don’t owe any of them anything, not right now.”

Steve just closes his eyes, tears leaking from the corners to land on the light blue bedcover. His breathing is ragged and hard, like he’s still the shrimpy little boy that shared his cookies with Tony on the first day of second grade. “What am I gonna do, Tony?” he sobs. “ _What’m I gonna do without my Ma?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Tony whispers, and the words taste bitter in his mouth as his eyes, already tired and aching, start to burn again. “Fuck, I... what can I do, Steve? Tell me what to do.”

“Stay with me. Just...stay...”

“Always,” Tony swears, and brings them closer once more.


	33. The one where... Tony and kitchens don’t mix well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #20: “Yell, scream, say something!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to our regularly scheduled fluff! ;)
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“Yell, scream, say _something_!”

“Is that...” Steve closes his eyes, breathing deeply. “Is that _pancake batter_ on the ceiling?”

“Well, obviously,” Tony huffs, cocking his hip into the messy counter beside him. There’s a glob of it on his shoulder, too, but he holds off on wiping it away, even though it’s itchy. “Turns out whisks are messy.”

“Which is why I wasn’t using one,” Steve sighs. “The spatula was doin’ just fine.”

“It was slow,” Tony knows it sounds like a whine. “They’re gonna be here in a couple of minutes, and we don’t have shit.”

“So you decided to paint the kitchen with the food instead? I was gone for less than a minute!”

“Hope you learned your lesson,” Tony tuts. “Kitchens plus unsupervised Tony equals mess. For shame, Rogers.”

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” Steve mumbles, but his smile is fond as he steps into the kitchen.

“Feed me?”

“Not on your life, mister. You’re gonna help me clean up first, and then you’ll be explaining to Clint why he’s gonna have to wait longer for pancakes.”

“Barton can go find new friends to mooch off of.”

“It’s our turn to host Tony,” Steve says, throwing a damp towel his way. “I don’t hear you complaining when we go over to Nat’s for Stroganoff-- and by the way, I’m not standing on a chair to clean the ceiling.”

“You’d probably break the chair,” Tony mutters, “and put a hole through the floor with all your freak muscles.”

“I heard that.”

“Can’t get anything past you...”

“Hey,” Steve says, and grabs Tony’s wrist just as he’s turning away. “Hey, hey.”

“What.” Tony doesn’t look up at him. He can’t bear the disappointment in those blue eyes he loves so much-- though God knows both of them should be used to it.

But Steve just lifts Tony’s chin until he has no other choice. “Y’know I’m not mad, right?” he asks.

“I was just trying to help,” Tony grumbles. “You always end up doing all the work--”

“I don’t mind,” Steve smiles, as soft as his eyes are fond. “And as long as you help with the dishes-- which you always do-- I’m more than happy to keep doing it.”

“‘M sorry.”

Strong arms wrap themselves around him, and Tony breathes in the scent of clean laundry and maple syrup. “Don’t apologize,” Steve says. “It was sweet of ya to help. And now we know: no whisks during breakfast, right?”

“Fucking whisks.”

Steve laughs as he pulls away. “Now lemme go whip up another batch-- Nat’s gonna kill us if we don’t have anything ready.”

“She doesn’t scare me,” Tony scoffs.

“I thought you were a genius.”

“Shut up and get cookin’, Betty Crocker,” he grins, and revels in Steve’s yelp when he smacks his ass.


	34. The one where... Steve’s not here for Tony-bashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #21: “Fight me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Fight me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You think you’re man enough to judge someone who’s given blood, sweat and tears for this city?” Steve keeps cold, steely blue eyes on the reporter. “Come up here and say what you just said again, right to my face. Or better yet, pour your own blood, sweat and tears out there, and then come tell me the same thing.”

“I’m not judging,” the man shakes his head. “I’m just curious as to why you’d let a man– who’s got more blood on his hands than the rest of us in here put together, let’s be honest– why you’d let him join the rest of you heroes in protecting the world. Tony Stark is hardly the first person that comes to mind when you say ‘hero’–”

“He’s the first person that comes to mine,” Steve snaps. The rest of the conference room is silent and tense, and Tony’s heart is beating so fast, they can all probably hear it.

“No offense to you, Captain,” the reporter says. “But can you honestly sit here and tell me you’d entrust your life to a warmonger—“

“ _Get out_ ,” Steve growls, and stands up so fast, his chair goes toppling backwards. “ _Now._ ”

“Steve,” Tony reaches over to grip his arm, but almost flinches at the wild, dangerous look in those baby blues when the blond turns to look at him.

“I’m not–” he takes a breath, shoulders heaving. “I will not sit here and listen to… Avengers!” he calls out, the words clipped and tight, and still louder than the chaos that’s suddenly breaking out across the room. “We’re done here.”

“Rogers, _damn it_ ,” Tony hisses, but doesn’t pull away from Steve’s hand on the small of his back as they get up and all but run off the platform. “Cap, calm down–”

“I can’t–” Steve mutters, and almost staggers into the empty hallway leading out of the building. “God, I hate this so much.”

“Steve–”

“Why can’t they see how much you do?” Steve’s voice breaks with so much rage and heartbreak, it almost brings Tony to tears. “Why is your worth even a question?”

“Come on, Steve,” Tony chuckles bitterly. “You really have to ask?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk like you believe them,” Steve says quietly. “Like they have any right to say those things about you.”

“To each their own, Cap,” Tony shrugs. “Can’t force ‘em to go along with anything.”

“But this– all these… attacks, and insults,” Steve shakes his head. “It’s disgusting.”

The silence is just a little more calm this time, but there’s no mistaking the tense line of Steve’s body.

“You can’t…” Tony looks down. “You can’t fight everyone that has shit to say about me.”

Steve doesn’t even flinch. “Watch me,” he says, and just like that, he’s Captain America, all squared shoulders and defiant eyes.

“My hero,” Tony mutters, but then Steve’s softens, and when he pulls him to his side, arm settled comfortably around Tony’s shoulders, both of them are almost smiling.

“Back atcha, Shellhead.”


	35. The one where... Steve takes care of his family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #22: “Don’t touch me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just LOVE the thought of Steve and Tony naming their daughter Isabella, so Tony can call her ‘bella’ (it means ‘beautiful’ in Italian). *SOBS*
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Tony–”

“It’s the Plague, isn’t it? It’s fine, babe, you don’t have to sugarcoat it–”

“It’s not the Plague, honey–”

“Except it is, ‘cause nothing could fuck me up this bad.”

“Believe it or not, it’s just the flu.”

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Tony huffs pitifully, dabbing at his nose with a tissue. “You’re still so naive to the ways of the world–”

Steve rolls his eyes, chuckling as he tucks the fluffy covers in tighter around his husband’s form. “Just go back to sleep. You should be better by tomorrow, if you take it easy.”

“‘Easy’ is my middle name,” Tony grins lecherously, but the effect is ruined when he immediately sneezes three times in a row.

“Then you should have no problem staying here while I go get our daughter ready for school.”

Tony makes a tiny, longing noise. “My baby girl, I’m gonna miss her today,” he sighs. “Tell her I loved her, won’t you?”

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic when you’re sick,” Steve mutters, but leaves the room with a kiss to the brunet’s forehead.

He walks the short distance to their daughter’s room, expecting to hear her energetic little chatter as she picks out her clothes for the day. So when he’s greeted with the sight of Bella still lying in bed, covers pulled all the way up until only the tip of her little blond head is showing, he frowns in concern.

“Sweetie?” he whispers, but the little girl just whimpers when he uncovers her face. She’s flushed and sweaty, and he knows without even touching her that she’s not well. “Aw, baby–”

“Papa,” Bella sobs, rubbing tiny fists against her eyes. “Papa, dun f-feel well–”

“Hey hey, it’s okay, baby. I’m here, Papa’s here,” he coos, lifting her warm, light frame into his arms. “Guess you’re not goin’ anywhere today either.”

His daughter just buries her head in his neck, and grips his shirt tightly as he carries her out the door and down to his room.

“Hey, what’re you–” Tony calls out weakly, but sits up a second later. “Aw shit.”

“Language,” Steve hisses, and regrets it immediately at the heartbreaking whimper coming from his arms. “Come on, baby, Daddy’s here, let’s get you in bed, alright?”

“My poor girl, come here,” Tony cuddles her when Steve lets her go, shushing her when she sniffles. “I got you, princess. Let’s take a nap, hmmm? And Papa can go make us some yummy snacks to feel better?”

Their daughter just nods and lets out a pitiful little moan that pretty much breaks Steve’s heart. The last thing he wants to do now is leave, but he knows that the sooner he takes care of business, the sooner he can return.

He talks with Natasha in the kitchen as he makes tea, cuts up a bowlful of oranges, and opens a pack of saltines. She’s clearly concerned about the two of them, but he leaves her with a promise of get well kisses for them as he walks back with a full tray in his arms.

He’s relieved to see his daughter looking livelier than she’d been before, even smiling into Tony’s side as they sit bundled up on their bed.

“I know there’s a princess here who’s crazy for some yummy orange slices, right?” he coos, brushing baby soft hair away from her eyes as he settles down beside them. “And you get to spend all day in bed with Daddy and Papa, doll baby. Lucky you!”

“Dun feel lucky, Papa,” Bella pouts, looking mournfully at him.

“Oh, but you are,” Tony insists, bopping her on the nose until she giggles. “No school, being lazy, orange slices?” He picks one up and makes airplane noises as he brings it closer. “What could be better? Come on, _bella_ , open up.”

“‘M tired,” she mumbles, and sighs when Steve cups her cheek, nuzzling into his palm.

“Eat a couple and then you can nap, sweetie. You don’t want us to finish them all, don’t you?” He asks, chuckling when she shakes her head and opens her mouth expectantly. Tony drops the slice, and then he and Steve share a smile when she hums happily. “More, Daddy.”

“Please,” Steve reminds her with a nudge.

“Pease, Daddy?”

Tony looks utterly charmed, as he does every time he look at their daughter, and it makes Steve love him even more, even though it barely feels possible. “As you wish, Your Highness,” he says, and then both of them are chewing and licking the sweet orange juice from their lips.

“Drink your tea, sweetheart,” Steve offers the cup to his husband. “Don’t want it to get cold.”

“I hate tea,” Tony grumbles, grimacing as he sips. “Why can’t I have coffee?”

“Because I lost count of how many you had yesterday, so that’s obviously too much.”

“But this is goddamn awful, hon.” 

Steve just leans over to tip the mug more into Tony’s mouth.

“Papa?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Where’s _my_ tea?” their daughter asks. Her hands are already sticky with orange pulp, and Steve doesn’t even wince when she wipes them on the crisp, white sheets.

“You want tea?” He smiles.

“No she doesn’t,” Tony shakes his head, then looks down. “Baby, no you don’t. Trust me. It’s _blegh_.”

“Then why y’drinkin’ it, Daddy?”

“Because Papa’s a slave driver and doesn’t want me to be happy.”

“Yeah, I’d just rather keep you alive,” Steve deadpans.

“Oh, who’s being dramatic now?”

“Both of us.”

“Daddy’n Papa,” Bella agrees, and dives under the covers with a giggle.

“Come up here, you little worm,” Tony orders, coughing into a new tissue a second later.

“‘ _M not a worm_ ,” is the muffled reply.

“Yes you are, you’re my little worm. And my princess, my sunshine, my tiny little cappuccino–”

“ _Papa’s a cap’chino!_ ”

“Yeah, Papa’s my iced venti Cap,” Tony winks at Steve, who rolls his eyes even as he feels his ears start to burn. “But you’re my little one, _bella_.”

“ _Lil’ cap_?”

“Mmmhmm,” Tony nods, and grins when their daughter pops back up again, her hair a riot of golden curls around her face. “You feeling better, aren’t cha?”

“Wittle.”

“Then it’s time for a nap, I’d say,” Steve decides, and moves the tray to the beside table before tucking himself under the covers beside his family. “You too, mister,” he nods at Tony.

“That sounds perfect,” Tony moans, grunting softly when their baby splays herself out on top of him like a starfish.

“Babydoll, maybe you wanna come lie down next to me?” Steve asks her, mindful of Tony’s lungs, and the nasty cough he can hear rattling them.

But his husband just shakes his head, burying his nose in soft, golden hair. “I’m good, babe. This is… ‘m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Tony whispers, looking utterly at peace as he drifts. “Got y’both here.”

Steve closes his eyes, resting his hand on his husband’s chest, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, darling,” Tony sighs, and then there is nothing, as the silence settles over them like the warmest blanket of all.


	36. The one where... Steve gets in the way. Literally.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #23: “I can’t lose you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I can’t lose you.”

Tony only says the words because he’s never been one for silences, and this one seems like the worst he could ever imagine. There’s nothing but the sound of his breathing, the steady beeping of the machine close to him, and Tony’s heart on the verge of shattering to irreparable pieces.

“Come on, Rogers,” he whispers, and he’s never begged more for anything in his life, but there’s no answering laughter, no light banter or warm encouragement.

“Steve… wake up. _Please_.”

\- - - - -

“If you stay in here one more day, James is going to come and drag you out of here himself.”

Tony can’t summon up a response, doesn’t want to do anything except sit there and count the rise and fall of his Captain’s chest. There’s a flash of red hair in his periphery, and he only just registers Natasha’s hand resting on his shoulder.

“At least change your clothes, _идиот_.”

Tony just blinks, and starts over.

_One…two…three…_

Natasha tightens her grip briefly before letting go with a sigh. “I’ll bring you some coffee.”

“Thanks,” he whispers, and doesn’t need to look at her– he wouldn’t even if he could– to see the tiny, genuine quirk of her lips as she leaves him alone. Alone with the silence and the soft rush of blood in his ears as his heart beats in time with Steve’s.

“Why did you do it?” he croaks, one hand moving to cover the darkest stain of blood on his shirt, where he’d pressed his chest against Steve’s. “Why the fuck did you do it, you idiot? I have enough blood on my hands without… without having yours.”

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , he hears Steve scoff, so clear he can almost swear it’s real.

“Open your eyes,” he says as he closes his own, aching and burning from lack of sleep and from the tears he swears no one will ever see him cry. “I’m so sick of this room– I’m so fucking sick.”

_Go to sleep, Tony. Take a break._

“I can’t,” he replies, and tries to keep his breathing even for as long as he can.

\- - - - -

The worst part isn’t the waiting, like Tony might’ve imagined– if he’d ever managed to conjure up the nightmare he’s now living. No, it’s when they finally get him to leave the room.

“Take a shower, get something other than coffee in you, and change out of that godawful suit,” Pepper orders the next morning as she enters the room, voice clipped and sharp, and louder than anything he’s heard since the chaos of the conference room as shots rang out and Steve put his stupid, _beautiful_ fucking body in front of Tony’s. His shoulders bristle reflexively at the tone, but then Pepper’s runs her hand through his unruly, unwashed hair.

“I know it hurts,” she says softly, “but imagine how he’d feel if he woke up–”

“When,” Tony almost yells, heart suddenly racing because _nonono, there’s no if, it’s_ when, _Steve_ will _wake up_ –

“When,” Pepper repeats. “Imagine what he’ll say when he wakes up and sees you like this.”

“Maybe it’ll teach him not to pull shit like this,” Tony swallows, sparing a glance over his shoulder to meet the woman’s concerned gaze.

“In the meantime, won’t you take care of yourself?”

“I’m–I’m _terrified_ of leaving,” he whispers, but lets himself be pulled from the chair and out the door.

Barnes is the first person he sees, knees pulled up to his chest as he sits on a chair of his own and stares at the room they’ve just left.

“I knew bringing out the big guns’d work,” the soldier mutters, eyes still and dull and never wavering. “Now go hose yourself down, you stink somethin’ fierce.”

“Will you…” Tony starts, and Barnes just nods.

“I’ll keep a look out,” he assures Tony, but the next half hour is still spent in a permanent state of dread– for the memories to strike back with a vengeance, for his bones to finally give up on him, for someone to come find him and tell him it’s all over.

He doesn’t even bother hide how his hands tremble as he stumbles back to Steve’s room. Barnes stands tensely by the window, and turns to Tony when he sits down beside the bed. The silence returns, light and heavy all at once, until–

“Let it go.”

“What?” Tony whispers absently, brushing his fingers along Steve’s still ones.

“Stark,” Barnes calls out. “Stark, hey, look at me.”

 _Why won’t you leave me_ , Tony feels like screaming, at Barnes and Natasha, at the doctors, and even Pepper. _Leave me here, I need to be here!_ But he does as he’s told.

“Let it go,” Barnes repeats.

Tony blinks slowly. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’ll kill ya. The guilt, the ‘what-ifs’…. they’ll break you, man.”

 _I deserve it_ , Tony’s mind says, but he shakes his head and goes back to counting. “Better me than him.”

“Doesn’t look like he agrees with you,” Barnes whispers, shaking his head, and then goes back to the window.

\- - - - -

It ends two days later.

One moment, Tony’s lost in counting– _eight hundred eleven… eight hundred twelve… eight hundred thirteen_ – and the next, every machine in the room goes off, lights blinking brighter than they’ve been all week. A room full of doctors and nurses come flooding in to shoo him out, before Tony’s mind can even register what’s happening.

He’s pushed into lean but firm arms, and recognizes Natasha’s low hiss of a warning when he struggles against them.

“ _остановить, дурак_ – they’re waking him up. Tony, _stop_.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, limbs sagging like a doll. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“That’s right,” Natasha says, and Tony feels her smile into his shoulder.

\- - - - -

When he finally shuffles back into the room– for all that he’s made his life beside Steve Rogers, for the past week, and for the last few years, he wills himself to stay outside and let the rest of the team have their moments; God knows they’ve earned it– there is no silence.

The beeping is gone, the sheets rustle under warm, _moving_ hands, and Steve lets out a heavy breath when his eyes meet Tony’s.

“You’re okay,” the blond sighs, and the relief in his voice makes Tony see red.

“I’m fucking _furious_ ,” he rasps, hands curling into fists that he buries in the sheets next to his Captain.

“Tony–”

“ _Why did you do it?_ ” Tony says through a sob that he will forever deny. “Why?”

“Don’t you know?” Steve asks just as softly, and god, everything about this man makes Tony’s heart beat and break all over again.

“Why?” is all he can say.

“Because it’s always going to be you. Every time.”

Tony’s shaking his head before Steve’s even finished, and he covers his eyes to hide the tears he’s finally willing to cry. “No, don’t fucking say that–”

“Why not–”

“Shut up, I swear to God, Rogers, don’t–”

“Tony, it’s okay–”

“ _No it’s not_!” Tony breathes, and he’s so completely done fighting everything. “I’ve been _dying_ here, Steve. Every fucking day you were down. You can’t do that again, don’t do that–”

“How can I do that when I love you?”

“Well stop,” Tony snaps, and then feels his heart stop when the words register. “Wait, what…”

“I do,” Steve nods, blue eyes steely with determination. He looks every inch the Captain, even bed-ridden and in a hospital gown. “I love you, I–”

Tony kisses him.

It’s sudden and clumsy and more than a little salty from his tears, but Tony pours every bit of his scarred and broken heart into it. And when he finally pulls away, it’s only to rest his forehead against Steve’s.

“We’re gonna have words about this, Rogers.”

“I thought so,” Steve’s voice sounds breathless, and Tony revels in it.

“But not right now,” he decides, and feels Steve’s smile against his lips when he leans in again.

Tomorrow, there’ll be tests and debriefs and more visitors than either of them are going to want to see. But for now, there is only Tony, Steve, and a silence filled with pure, unbridled hope.


	37. The one where... Tony gets arrested

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #24: “I am so lucky to love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“ _I am so lucky to love you. _”__

“What did you do?” Steve asks, without looking up from the pan bubbling over the stove.

“ _Wow, that’s... that’s just--_ ” Tony stammers, and even though Steve can’t actually see him, he knows the man is fidgeting where he stands. “ _I’m offended, frankly._ ”

“Tony.”

“ _Yes, honey pie?_ ”

“What did you do?”

“ _I just, I don’t understand why that’s the first thing you ask me, when I just called to say that I love you, and you know you’re the love of my life, right?_ ”

“Oh, now I _know_ something’s wrong,” Steve sighs. “Just tell me what happened.”

He hears Tony sigh from the other end, soft and almost lost in the faint bustle in the background, and then-- “ _We might’ve... gotten arrested._ ”

“Anthony Edward Stark,” Steve growls, splashing spaghetti sauce in the immediate vicinity as he drops the wooden spoon he’d been holding straight into the pan. “What the hell did you do?”

“ _God, you’re so hot when you’re angry--_ ”

“Tony--”

“ _It wasn’t me! And wow, that’s a first, ‘cause remember back in senior year--_ ”

“Where are you?” Steve asks, already walking to the door. “Tony, tell me where you are, I’m already on my way--”

“ _No--Jesus, stay there! You don’t even know where we are._ ”

“I will when you tell me. And you’d better.”

“ _Don’t you wanna know what happened?_ ” Tony asks, and Steve stops to take a deep breath.

“Alright,” he says. “Tell me.”

“ _It’s Clint’s fault, I swear! We were walking back home, over near the Math building, and some drunk was literally seconds away from tagging the Erskine statue, the fucker, so then Clint just takes off and tackles him, except I don’t think he was actually that drunk because he started fighting back-- and I forgot to mention this guy’s a fucking giant, so Rhodey and Barnes had to run over and help, and then the guy’s backpack started fucking smoking, and I freaked the fuck out so I threw it in a trash can, but then it exploded-- turns out it was, like, a color bomb or some shit, and I got a shitload of paint in my eye, and then someone grabbed me and I just threw out a punch, ‘cause, y’know, I was still freakin’ out, except it was campus security so now we’re all down at the station and they had to put us in separate cells ‘cause Barnes broke the guy’s nose for knocking Clint out--_ ”

“Oh my god,” Steve sighs, and scrambles to fit his arms into the sleeves of his coat. “Is he okay?”

“ _Yeah, they’re takin’ care of him now,_ ” Tony replies. “ _But I’m, uh, gonna need you to call my lawyers, babe._ ”

“You bet I will. So you’re at the campus station?”

“ _Yep._ ”

“I’ll see you in a few,” Steve says. “And we’re havin’ words about these ‘guys night out’s, Tony Stark.”

“ _Gonna punish me?_ ” Tony purrs, and Steve’s cheek flush even as he rolls his eyes.

“You are _so_ sleeping on the couch tonight,” he says, stepping out into the brisk evening air.

“ _Is this what I get for doing my civic duty? For protecting public property?_ ”

Steve sighs. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do with you.”

“ _Love me?_ ”

“Always, sweetheart,” he says, and can’t help the smile that settles on his face. “But you are still in the dog house.”

“ _I’m never going out again,_ ” Tony grumbles. “ _I’m just gonna stay with you forever, okay?_ ”

“That’s the plan, ain’t it?” Steve says quietly, shy and hesitant all of a sudden. “You and me, forever?”

There’s nothing but silence on the other end, and then--

“ _I am so fucking lucky to love you,_ ” Tony says, soft and warm, and Steve feels them all the way to the station.


	38. The one where... Steve and Tony take a moment before their Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #25: “Don’t try, I’m not worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Don’t try, I’m not worth it.”

“Big day, Stark. It’s a little too late for cold feet, don’t you think?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “I’m too selfish to get cold feet,” he says, but Natasha just smiles, and goes back to adjusting his tie despite his protests. “I’m just saying, Steve doesn’t care what I look like– I could probably go in there naked, and he’d be fine with it.”

“The rest of us wouldn’t,” Rhodey says, looking up from his phone with a grimace.

“Awww, brownie cake,” Tony grins. “I always knew you wanted to get all up on this,” he gestures to himself, chuckling when Natasha tug his collar a little too hard. “But you snooze, you lose! Only Cap gets to tap this ass now–”

“Jesus Christ,” Rhodey groans, and throws a cushion Tony’s way. “I swear I’ll walk out if you keep talking.”

“You can’t leave me on my wedding day,” Tony scoffs. “So just calm down and look pretty. I promise I’ll behave–”

“Thank you.”

“Until the reception, then all bets are off.”

Rhodey buries his face in another cushion. “Fair enough,” he mumbles, then starts when there’s a knock at the door.

“ _кто это_?” Natasha calls out.

“Steve,” comes the reply, and a second later, the man himself walks in with a smirk. “Figures you’d be taking your sweet time,” he says. “Here, let me take care of that,” he points to Tony’s tie.

“I’m done,” Natasha says.

“Doesn’t hurt to double check,” Steve smiles, boyish and rogue, and god, Tony falls in love with him all over again.

“Beat it,” he waves the other two off, already pulling at his soon-to-be-husband’s sleeve. “We’ll be right out, I swear. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“If you ruin that suit, we’re leaving the two of you on your own,” Natasha warns them, as she and Rhodey leave the room.

Steve has him pressed up against the wall before the door’s even closed. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers, lips brushing Tony’s jaw as his hands sneak beneath the suit jacket to caress Tony’s hips.

“It’s– _oh god_ ,” Tony moans, “it’s only b-been a couple of– _Jesus, Steve_ – a couple of hours.” His own hands run up and down Steve’s back. “This suit is a fucking _wonder_ on you, Christ. You look so– god, I want to…” he pulls Steve’s face up to kiss him. “I want– _mmmhmmm_ – I want to fucking rip it off you.”

“Gotta wait couple more hours,” Steve says, and Tony leans in again to kiss the smirk off his face. “Just… just wanted to make sure you’re ready.”

“I’ve been ready since you first asked me, babe,” Tony replies, and grins when Steve brushes the tip of his nose against Tony’s in an eskimo kiss. “Sap,” he sighs.

Steve hums, eyes the softest shade of blue Tony’s ever seen. “ _Your_ sap, in a couple of minutes.”

Tony feels a familiar warmth bloom in his chest. “If you stop molesting me, we might even get to do this _today_ ,” he jokes.

“Didn’t hear any complainin’ just now,” Steve chuckles, but then pulls away to hold Tony at arms length. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Can’t hold a candle to you, darling.”

Steve rolls his eyes even as he blushes, but his fingers are warm when he intertwines them with Tony’s. “Ready to do this?” he asks.

Tony takes a breath, nods, and follows the blond out the door.


	39. The one where... Tony learns art isn't all that bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #26: “Wow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Wow.”

“I know, right?” Pepper smiles, eyes transfixed on the painting in front of them.

“This is just–”

“Beautiful.”

“Total _bullshit_.”

“ _Tony_!” Pepper hisses, hair flying out behind her as she whips around to glare at him. “Speak a little louder, why don’t you.”

“What?” Tony shrugs, ignoring the way Pepper smiles apologetically at the people around them. “Pep, you can’t be– this is– I mean, seriously,” he leans in closer, “what the fuck is it supposed to be?”

“It’s art.”

“But _what is it_?”

Pepper stares at him for a second or two, and then sighs. “I don’t– it’s…” she flounders, “…I have absolutely no idea.”

“I thought so,” Tony grins smugly, taking a sip from his champagne glass.

“But I still like it,” Pepper defends, head tilting to the side thoughtfully as she goes back to staring at the painting. “I like the colors, the texture, the feel of it… I don’t know. I like it.”

“Then it’s yours,” Tony decides, placing a buying sticker on the wall beside it. “Consider it an… early birthday present?”

“That was three months ago,” Pepper replies fondly. “You got me the entire Jimmy Choo spring collection.”

“How generous of me.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark, thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“How ‘bout an early Christmas present,?”

“That’s seven months from now.”

“Just because I love you, then,” Tony grins, and then chuckles when Pepper kisses his cheek.

“Charmer,” she sighs, as she pulls away. “Why don’t you walk around and see if you actually like anything else?”

“I’ll try, for you,” Tony concedes, and strolls away with a final wink.

\- - - - -

He doesn’t even complete a whole round before he’s bored out of his mind, paintings and sculptures he’s seen only minutes ago already fading from his memory. The champagne glass hangs upside down from his swinging hand, and he can’t even muster a fake hum of interest at anything anymore.

Until he turns the corner and almost stops breathing.

Because the painting propped up on the wall behind him? It’s an all too familiar sight.

The clear, blue sky, golden sun gleaming over the New York skyline, and his red and gold figure flying straight into the black hole in the middle of it all.

But this time, the cold, sharp stab of terror that comes with the memories– every time, without fail, except _right now, why not now?_ – is replaced with a soft warmth Tony doesn’t think he’s felt since he was a boy, and it takes him more than a few moments to recognize it as awe.

His steps are slow, and more than a little stunted, but he finally comes to a stop in front of the canvas. “Wow,” the word is out before he realizes he’s even said anything, and his hand reaches out to touch the brightest spot in the picture.

Himself.

“You’re the first person to actually stop here for more than a few seconds.”

The voice is low and warm, with an undercurrent of amusement that relaxes Tony immediately.

“I find that really fucking hard to believe,” he replies just as softly, and reluctantly pulls his eyes away, towards his new companion and–

Oh.

 _Hello there_ , his mind drawls lasciviously.

“I don’t,” Big, Blond and Beautiful chuckles bashfully, hands fidgeting with a champagne glass of his own. “But this… this is more than I could’ve imagined. It’s an honor, Mr. Stark,” he finishes, holding out his free hand.

Tony’s eyes flit over to the painting before meeting bright blue ones again. “This is yours?” he asks, reaching out to return the greeting.

“Yeah,” the blond says. “Captain Steve Rogers, at your service.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, believe me,” Tony’s lips quirk when Blondie– _Steve_ – blushes at the obvious interest.

“Well, you’ve pretty much made my day,” he says.

“ _Only_ your day?” Tony pouts, and feels his heart skip a beat at the answering chuckle.

“That depends,” Steve bows his head, looking up at him through long eyelashes.

“On what?”

“On what you think of this,” he points to the painting. “If you don’t mind sharing…”

Tony doesn’t miss the faint uncertainty in the man’s voice, as if he were afraid of what he’ll be told. He thinks about playing it off, and flirting his way into the Captain’s arms– and maybe even his bed– but instead, he opens his mouth and–

“Why am I like that?”

Steve tilts his head, just like Pepper’d done earlier. “Like what?”

“Like… this,” Tony lifts his hand until his fingers almost touch the painting. “There’s so much here, but I can’t– I can’t look away.”

“You’re not supposed to.”

“What?” he whispers, eyes meeting bright blue ones.

“You can’t ignore everything that’s going on,” Steve explains, and steps closer to him. “The bright, the black– the good and the bad, it’ll always be there. But so will everything you did.”

“Yeah,” is all Tony can say.

“Did you–” Steve squares his shoulders and lifts his head determinedly, and just like that, Tony can see a soldier preparing for the fray. “Do you like it, then?”

“This, uh, this is the first time it hasn’t felt like a, uh, nightmare,” he admits, and almost smiles as Steve’s frame sags almost imperceptibly with relief.

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” Steve says softly, “but I hope you never forget just how much good you did that day. More than I think you realize.”

Tony gives himself a moment to blink back the slight burning in his eyes, and then gives the blond the most genuine smile he can muster. “No need to lay it on so thick, Captain. I’m already buying it.”

Steve’s gasp is almost comical. “Oh–you really don’t– y’know what? Let me just… you shouldn’t be paying for this, you’re more than welcome to just _have_ it–”

“Where’re the proceeds going?”

“The VA Clinic in Brooklyn,” Steve answers, after a short pause. “My best friend’s there, and…” he clears his throat, eyes going bright with emotion. “They need as much help as they can get down there.”

“Then why would you give this away?” Tony asks, more intrigued than he’s been a while.

“Because I’ve never had anyone look at anything I’ve done like you did today. I... all an artist ever wants is for their art to say something to someone, and if that’s the case here… it’s more than I could’ve ever asked. So I’d like you to have it. I can just–”

“No,” Tony shakes his head. “I love it, I want it, but I’m paying for it. And you’re taking my money; if not for you, then for your friends. Everyone. Don’t be stubborn, baby blue– Tony Stark always gets his way.”

Steve lets out a low, rumbled laugh. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that one bit,” he says fondly.

“Smart guy,” Tony grins. “Now, who should I talk to about taking this home with me? I’m gonna need their number, and yours.”

A blond eyebrow rises in surprise. “Mine?”

“Yep,” Tony pops the ‘p’, “Just, y’know, in case you wanna help me pick the best spot to hang it up in.”

Steve’s lips are barely quirked up at both ends, but his eyes are the most earnest things Tony’s ever seen, both guarded and curious as they hold his gaze. He knows he’s being ‘examined’, for lack of a better term, measured up to standards he suddenly finds himself afraid he won’t meet. But just as he’s about to pull away– in every damn way he knows– Steve’s face softens, and he nods, pulling out a worn, early generation StarkPhone. “Okay,” he says shyly.

“Good,” Tony sighs, his relief almost pathetically evident in that one word. He takes the phone and adds his number in seconds, messaging himself to get Steve’s number. “Tomorrow sound good? I can get pizza.”

“As long as it’s from Original Mario’s on 42nd,” Steve says, and Tony can’t smother the pleased sound that leaves him.

“I’m about to fucking kiss you right now,” he crows, and almost doubles over when the blond appears to choke on his own tongue. “I think I’ll, uh, save that for later, though.”

“Later…” Steve repeats, and the wonder in his voice, in his face and his eyes, stays with Tony for the rest of the day.

God, he loves art.


	40. The one where... Tony and Steve are not lost. They’re NOT.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #27: “We can fix this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“We can fix this.”

“How?”

Tony shrugs, looking out at the fork in the road stretching out ahead of them.

“You threw it out the window twenty miles out the city!” Steve says, and then bats his eyelashes in a vague imitation of Tony. “ _We don’t need a map, Steve-o. Didja forget I’m a genius?_ ” he mimics, and the exaggerated pitch of his voice prompts a laugh out of Tony even as he rolls his eyes.

“I don’t sound like that,” he points out, jabbing Steve’s bicep hard, and tries not to let his hand linger.

_God, how he wants to…_

“Yeah, maybe not,” Steve says. “But what do we do now, genius?”

Tony bites his lip in thought. “Flip a coin?”

Steve laughs fondly. “What– heads, we go North, tails, we go South?”

“Why not? I thought we were wingin’ this thing, Rogers!”

“I guess we got no choice now,” Steve says, after a short, comfortable silence. “Lemme get my wallet,” he says, and gives Tony a delicious view of his jean-clad ass when he turns to reach into the duffel bag sitting in the backseat.

“So,” Tony clears his throat, looking out his window to keep his breath steady. “Day one of Steve and Tony’s excellent adventure– what do you think?”

“I don’t know why I was expecting anything even remotely normal,” Steve settles back into his seat, grinning playfully. “But honestly, as long as you’re here, I don’t care what we end up doing.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat. “Sap,” he mumbles, but he’s smiling so hard, his cheeks almost ache. “Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because you’re gonna need someone to reach the top shelves when we move up to Cambridge in the fall?”

“Fuck you!” Tony yells, slapping at any part of Steve he can reach. “I’m average sized, you asshat. And just for that, I’m gonna build robot boots with jets and repulsors, and then I won’t need you. At all.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Steve says, “‘cause I’m always gonna need you, Shellhead.”

His eyes are soft and earnest, and Tony finds he can barely meet them. The warmth that’s been furling in his chest since they pulled out of Ma Roger’s driveway only hours ago grows and spreads all over, until he’s sure his cheeks are redder than they’ve ever been. “Just flip the coin, you meatball,” he sighs, more gently than he’d expected. “We’re burnin’ daylight.”

“What happened to ‘winging it’?” Steve asks, tossing the coin like one would a baseball.

“We can’t wing it if we’re not moving, sunshine.”

Baby blue eyes narrow thoughtfully, then– “Let’s just… pick.”

“Steve–”

“It’s just you and me out here. No room for chance.”

That smile Tony loves is back in full force, as beautiful as the first time, and if he never looked at anything else, it still wouldn’t be enough. “I just want it to be perfect,” the words come out before he can bury them, deep down where the rest of things he’ll only ever say to the boy beside him are hidden.

“It already is. You’re here with me,” Steve replies, and god help him, Tony believes every word.

“Call it then, Cap,” he finally says, fingers tightening around the steering wheel in anticipation.

“No,” Steve says. “Together.”

 _Together_ , Tony thinks, and revels in the blond’s whoop of glee as he slams his foot on the pedal and they speed off.


	41. The one where... Steve gets in the way. Again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #28: “Stop pushing me away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, y'all. This one’s not angsty AT ALL ;)
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“Stop pushing me away.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve grits. “You can’t use me as a human shield.”

“Then how the fuck am I supposed to survive this?” Tony flails, almost poking Steve’s eye with his gun.

“You kill _them_ , obviously.”

“You know it’s not the end of the world if we lose, right? I can buy a billion restaurants– buying the gang lunch for losing isn’t even a drop in the bucket, stud muffin.”

Steve’s blush is just as adorable in the dim light of the room they’re hiding in as it is any other time. “But I just…I don’t like to lose,” he says, and Tony almost leans in to kiss the pout off those gorgeous lips.

“Steve,” he says instead. “It’s _laser tag_.”

“It’s war.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re so gung-ho sometimes, I swear to God–”

“Don’t blaspheme, Tony.”

“Bite me.”

“Treat a fella to dinner, first.”

“I’ll make you carry me piggyback this entire game, not kidding.”

“Empty threats,” Steve grins. “Now come on, Shellhead– Buck might be a crack shot, but you and I make a damn good team. Let’s go show these bastards who’s boss.”

“Nat’ll kill you when she finds out you called her a bastard,” Tony points out, checking over his weapon one last time.

“Nat’s called both of us worse things.”

“True. Remember that one time, with the goat–”

“–and the truck full of marshmallows? Good times,” Steve grins, then tugs Tony closer through the protective vest he wears. “Now take care of yourself out there, soldier,” he says, and Tony rolls his eyes even as his heart skips a beat at how close they are.

“Steve–”

“I won’t lose any more good men out there–”

“Shut up, you fucking meatball,” Tony laughs. “Just go already, will ya?”

“You got my back?” Steve turns to the door, then looks over his shoulder at him.

“Always,” Tony promises, and follows.

\- - - - -

“You’re a fucking idiot–”

“Tony–”

“No,” Tony shakes his head, scowling as the rest of their friends practically stuff their faces with pizza. “What happened to _‘I don’t like to lose, Tony’_?” he frowns exaggeratedly as he lowers his voice, and really, he knows it’s a shitty impersonation of Steve, but he doesn’t really care. “We had this in the bag, Rogers.”

“I know–”

“And now we have to sit here watch Barton inhale anchovies. _Anchovies_ , Steve.”

“Tony, I know,” Steve sighs, but Tony doesn’t see a single shred of regret.

“You could at least tell me why you got in the way, then,” he scowls.

“I just–” Steve squares his jaw, fiddling with the checkered tablecloth. “I saw her aim and– I just… I couldn’t let her shoot you.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” Tony mutters fondly, torn between laughing and squealing pathetically into his hands. “I honestly don’t know if I should be flattered that you took a laser tag shot for me, or terrified that it’s something you’d ever do, at all.”

“You’re my best friend,” is all Steve says, like it’s the only answer that matters, and Tony thinks he could cry from the sheer amount of love he feels for this boy.

“Yeah, back atcha, sunshine,” he grins. “Even if it’s all your fault that we have to deal with this shit–”

“Fuck you, Stark” Clint crows from the other side of the table, cheeks bulging out like a hamster. “Y’snooze, y’lose!”

“Yeah, _I’m_ the loser here,” Tony scoffs. “I’m not the one sucking face with a dozen pizza slices.”

“Nah, but we all know you’d rather be sucking face with St–”

Tony jumps out of his seat, slamming a hand on the table. “I’ll fucking _end you_ ,” he growls.

“Clint, don’t be an ass,” Steve says calmly, but Tony doesn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks. “And you,” he pulls Tony’s sleeve, “sit back down before they throw us out again–”

“That last time was totally Rhodes’ fault,” Barnes laughs, clapping said boy’s back. “Crazy sunnuva bitch.”

“Pep’s allergic to strawberries,” Rhodey shrugs. “And yeah, I might’ve gone a little crazy–”

“You punched the waiter,” Nat smirks.

“I swear I saw him snickering in the back, even after we told him to hold off on putting ‘em in her salad.”

“Sure,” Clint nods, and god, Tony’s lost count of how many slices he’s packed away.

“I hate you all,” he grumbles.

“Except _Steeeeeeve_ ,” Barnes coos.

“No, he’s an idiot too.”

“But I’m your idiot,” Steve grins, boyish and playful and everything Tony’s ever loved him for.

“I like the sound of that,” he whispers, and when he feels the whisper soft touch of Steve’s fingers on the back of his neck, he’s helpless to stop the smile that breaks through.


	42. The one where... Tony gets in the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #29: “It never gets any easier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“It never gets easier.”

Steve looks over his shoulder at the sound of James Rhodes’ voice, soft and tired in a way that he’s never sounded in all the times Steve’s met him.

“I can’t imagine it ever could,” he whispers back, and his own voice sounds rough and wrecked. He wonders if that’s how he looks, with his dirty hair and even dirtier uniform that he hasn’t changed out of since they’d first rushed Tony in.

“Sure you don’t want to step out for a bit? You could get some coffee, a sandwich--”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Steve shakes his head, “I’ll just... I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He hears the other man step further inside, and the low bustle of the SHIELD Med-bay dies down as the door closes.

“He won’t apologize, you know,” Rhodey says, breaking the silence that Steve would give anything to hear filled with Tony’s laughter. “He’d do this for just about anyone, but for you? He wouldn’t even blink.”

Steve feels pinpricks in the back of his eyes. “He didn’t. That’s why I--” he lets out a shaky breath, and winds his fingers against Tony’s still ones. “I don’t think he knows how much I need him.”

Rhodey huffs out something that, on any other day, might have been laughter. “He’s always been like that. Always. But you should tell him when he wakes up,” he says, patting Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna do a hell of a lot more than that,” Steve whispers, and times his breathing to the rise and fall of Tony’s chest.

He’s not sure when Rhodey leaves, but the next time he looks up, they’re alone again, with the heart monitor beeping steadily and the whisper soft feel of Tony’s hand in his.

“I need to tell you something, Shellhead. Can’t hear it if you don’t wake up, though. I need you to wake up. Come on... Wake up, sweetheart.”

\- - - - -

“What the fuck happened to _you_?”

Steve doesn’t jump out of his seat at the sound of Tony’s voice, but the relief that slams into his chest brings him to tears.

“I went and got an idiot for a best friend,” he laughs, wetly and more than a little breathless as he finally meets Tony’s warm, brown eyes.

“I’d apologize,” Tony rasps, wincing as he moves each arm and leg, “but I’m just too damn tired to be sorry.”

“Maybe next time you’ll think about stepping in front of me during a battle,” Steve says softly, but doesn’t let go of the brunet’s hand. “If you weren’t so sorry lookin’ right now, I’d deck ya right in the kisser.”

“Shit, you must be really pissed if you’re going all Brooklyn on me.” Tony groans, but then his lips quirk up in an all too familiar smirk, and damn it, even half alive and bed-ridden, he’s still the most beautiful thing Steve’s ever seen. “Also, I can’t stop thinking about how hot that is, so I blame the morphine--”

"I’m so glad you’re okay,” Steve blurts, and doesn’t wipe the lone tear that finally manages to escape from the corner of his eye. “Don’t ever do that again. Please.”

“Sorry,” Tony shakes his head weakly. “No can do, Cap--”

“ _Why the hell not_?”

“Because I am replaceable, and you’re not.”

“No you’re not,” Steve shakes his head, words falling from his mouth like a flood. “You’re not replaceable, Tony, not to _me_. I need you--”

“Steve--”

“ _Listen to me, damn it_ ,” he almost yells, and feels Tony bristle. “I can’t... God, I can’t do this without you. Any of it.” His voice breaks, but he holds Tony’s gaze firmly. “I need you.”

“So do I, y’know,” Tony whispers, eyes glassy and bright. “And if I have to take the hit so that you don’t have to, I’ll do it every fucking time.”

Steve swallows back a sob, and takes deep breaths until everything falls away.

Everything but Tony.

“I can’t lose you, Shellhead,” he finally says.

“Back atcha, Winghead.”

Tony’s smile is small, and more than a little weak, but as Steve returns it with one of his own, he feels warmer than he has in days.


	43. The one where... baby Avengers are back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #30: “I thought I could manage. I can’t. Not without you. Not ever, not like this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Chapter 27.
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“I thought I could manage. I can’t. Not without you. Not ever, not like this.”

“ _Tony--_ ”

“I’m gonna need you to come back, right now,” Tony snaps. “Come on, chop chop, Cap, I need-- _Barton, you little shit, let go of Barnes’ hair_! I swear-- oh, you think that’s funny? You won’t be laughing when Cap comes home-- Steve, I mean it, you need to get back here _yesterday_.”

" _Are you okay? What’s wrong?_ ” Steve’s voice is firm and serious, enough to calm Tony’s nerve considerably.

“I’m home alone with five rowdy monsters, that’s what’s wrong. I can’t believe this was your idea, you’re usually a lot less stupid--”

“ _Tony, is anyone in any actual danger?_ ”

“Well... no,” Tony replies, “but--”

“ _I’ll be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail--_ ”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“ _Language! I’m next in line at the register, I’ll be home in minutes._ ”

“Leave it there, I’ll have Happy pick everything up someplace else.”

“ _You are_ not _going to bother that man while he’s on a date_ ,” Steve says. “ _Pepper’ll kill you. I’m going to pay and I’ll see you in a few, I promise. You’ll be fine._ ”

“I hate you,” Tony growls, wincing as he spots Sam jumping off the couch and onto one of the many beanbags scattered around the room. “I hate you so much right now.”

Steve’s laughter is familiar, and fond. “ _No, you don’t._ ”

“Shut up,” Tony says, and ends the call with a vicious push of a button. “Bastard...” he sighs, but he knows he’s smiling when he looks back up.

\- - - - -

"I told you you’d be fine,” Steve says, when he enters the kitchen with half a dozen bags hanging from his arms.

“Milk,” is all Tony says, hand stretched out expectantly.

“Sorry?”

“Milk!” Clint shouts from where they’re all sitting, slamming his plastic spoon on the table loudly. “ _Milkmilkmilk_!”

“I bribed them with this,” Tony waves a box of brightly colored cereal. “But _someone_ ,” he glares at Steve, “finished all the milk this morning, so, y’know... Anyway, hand it over, sunshine.”

Steve, thankfully, immediately holds out the bag furthest from him, and quickly sets the others down to help Tony pour the milk on the bowls.

“I wanna do it!” Barnes says, making grabby hands at the gallon. “Me!”

“No, Buck,” Steve shakes his head. “Lemme do it for ya, bud.”

“Big gallon is too big for tiny hands,” Tony says. “So just sit back and let everyone else do the work, you lucky ducks.”

“‘m not a duck!” Clint glowers. “‘m a _hawk_!”

“Jesus Christ, they should _not_ be this fucking cute,” Tony mutters, and feels his heart skip a beat when Steve smiles knowingly.

“So... when’s bath time?”

Tony shakes his head. “Up to you,” he says, “since you’re in charge.”

“Tony--”

“Nope. It’s my turn to take a breather.”

“Don’t you wanna help?” Steve’s eyes are wide and blue, with a smile so hopeful, that Tony knows he’s already screwed.

“Not fair,” he sighs, and nods.

\- - - - -

He can’t believe he almost missed this.

Tony’s holding a freshly showered and pajama-clad Natasha in his arms, leaning against the bathroom door as Steve lifts Bruce from the tub, the little brunet bundled in a dark green towel as he’s set back down on the fluffy bathroom rug.

But as adorable as their teammates are, Tony’s given up on trying not to stare at his Captain-- the blond’s damp, white shirt is spread almost indecently across that gorgeous chest, and his biceps are straining against the sleeves from the bustle of the last half hour.

It’s incredible.

And Steve’s fucking face isn’t making things easier, with his baby blues almost as bright as his smile.

Damn him.

“Mission accomplished,” Steve announces, giving him a thumbs up.

“You’re such a goober,” Tony mutters, giving that body one last, lingering glance before turning away. “Go watch the other ones while I put this one back in the living room.”

“You’re makin’ ‘em sound like puppies.”

“A little less hairy, yeah,” Tony shrugs, grinning when Steve laughs, “but not that different, right?”

“Guess not. In any case, I’m glad you’re doing this with me.”

“That’s gotta be a first.”

“You know it’s not,” Steve says. “There’s no one I’d rather do any of this with.” There’s nothing but honesty in those blue eyes, and Tony feels his grin tapering down to a soft quirk of his lips.

“Back atcha, Cap,” he says, and cherishes the warmth in his chest for the rest of the day.


	44. The one where... Steve and Tony laze around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March Prompt #31: “I’m in this for life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

It’s the breeze that wakes him.

Slow and warm, it comes, and Steve feels it brush his skin with every sway of the hammock.

But warmer still are the tiny kisses Tony’s pressing on his skin, up to his neck and the curve of his jaw, before moving back down to his shoulder. “ Have a nice nap there?”

Steve hums affirmatively, and tightens his arms around his new husband’s waist. “A fella could get used to spendin’ all day like this.”

“I like the sound of that,” Tony purrs. “Being pressed up against this all day,” he runs his hands along Steve’s chest and stomach. “Just you and me– minus the clothing, of course. It’s so inconvenient. And lucky for us,” he mumbles against Steve’s jaw. “This is a private island.”

“I should hope so,” Steve says, shivering from the attention Tony’s lips are paying to his skin. “Don’t feel like runnin’ into anyone else on my own honeymoon.”

“Awww shucks,” Tony replies. “Guess I should go tell the team to hop back state-side, huh?”

“Funny guy,” Steve rolls his eyes, but moves a hand up to tip Tony’s chin until their eyes meet. He has time to catch the brunet’s smile before cupping the back of his head to bring him in for a kiss. It’s slow and soft and lazy, Steve’s favorite kind, and neither of them pull away until they’re gasping for air.

“Shit, I could _really_ get used to spending all day doing that,” Tony breathes, all dark eyes and wickedly curved lips.

“I thought that was the plan for the next two weeks,” Steve smirks, and leans in again to nip at that plush, reddened lower lip.

“You’re gonna kill me, I swear,” Tony groans, and rocks his hips against Steve’s. “But I– _God_ – I totally asked for it when I married you, huh?”

Steve grins, even as the air leaves his lungs. “Uh huh. Too late to back out now, mister.”

“I’m in this for life, hon. Every bit of torture you can dish out.”

“Good to know, Mr. Rogers.”

Tony blinks, his cheeks flushing the most charming shade of pink Steve’s seen, and buries his head in Steve’s shoulder. “You fight dirty, Captain.”

“Only with you, sweetheart.”

“Damn fucking right.”

Steve closes his eyes when he feels Tony’s smile against his skin, and lets the breeze lull them both into a blissful silence.


	45. The one where... even baby Tony loves Steve. Naturally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #1: “You smell nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You smell nice.”

Steve smiles down at the big brown eyes looking shyly up at him. He manages to ignore the amused snickering from Buck, Sam and Clint, the knowing quirk of Natasha’s lips, and most importantly, the flush he can feel spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. “I’m glad you think so,” he says softly, pulling Tony up to sit on his lap, and feels his chest grow even warmer when the tiny brunet settles against him with a happy sigh.

“I’m gonna throw up,” Clint whispers, loud enough to get a glare from both Steve and Natasha.

“Y’sick?” Tony asks innocently, lips brushing against the top of his Captain America plushie. It makes Steve hold the boy even closer, pressing a kiss to his soft, brown hair.

“Somethin’ like that,” Bucky snorts, and then gives Tony a smile. “Whatcha got there, though, huh? Captain America?”

“Uh huh,” Tony mumbles. “He’s m’favorite.”

“Is he?” Sam grins. “Well you know you’re sittin’ on his lap right now, yeah?”

Tony nods.

“And what _does_ he smell like?”

“Okay!” Steve all but jumps up, keeping his hold on Tony steady as he starts walking toward the kitchen. “Let’s just– I’m just gonna take him… somewhere.”

“Where we goin’?” Tony giggles, waving the plush around as he makes airplane noises.

“To the kitchen,” Steve replies, jostling the brunet to get more giggles out of him. “Didn’t know Cap could fly.”

Tony shakes his head. “’s why he has Ir’n Man,” he pokes the helmet splayed out on Steve’s shirt. “They fly t’gether.”

“We sure do,” Steve grins, and bops Tony’s nose as he picks up a handful of oranges with his free hand. “Hows about you and I go make some art, huh?”

“’Kay,” the brunet nods, leaning his head against Steve’s shoulders. “I like making wobots.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve a got a coupl’a really neat ones down in your workshop.”

“Dummy!” Tony shrieks happily. “And You, ‘n Butte’fingews!”

“What were you thinkin’, coming up with those names, huh? Silly boy!”

“’M not silly– ‘m a genius.”

Steve closes his eyes against the warm rush of love that sweeps through him. “You’re somethin’, sweetheart.”


	46. The one where... Tony pays Steve a late night visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #2: “Why are you at my doorstep at three in the morning?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Why are you at my doorstep at three in the morning?”

“Correction,” Tony points at Steve. “It’s technically _my_ doorstep. They’re all my doorsteps. My building, my doorsteps– and this isn’t even a doorstep, Steve-o. It’s a whole floor, so–”

“Why are you on my floor at three in the morning, then?” Steve smiles, a small and fond thing that warms Tony all over.

“JARVIS locked me out the workshop,” he says, walking past the blond and into the softly lit living room. “Something about a thirty plus hour work binge.”

“How many hours, exactly?” Steve asks, pulling Tony’s wrist gently towards the couch.

“Dunno.”

“Why don’t you sleep, then?”

“‘M not tired.”

“Come on,” Steve says gently. Tony mumbles something he won’t remember in the morning, but feels his eyes drooping further and further by the second, and when his head touches the soft cushion on one end of the sofa, the last thing he registers is his own sigh of content, and warm, familiar fingers running through his hair.

\- - - - -

He wakes to those same fingers digging into his cheek.

“Go ’way,” he mumbles, and feels his lips quirking up at the sound of Steve’s hushed laughter.

“Thought you might want some dinner.”

“Wh–” Tony frowns. “Dinner…”

“You slept the day away, genius.” Steve’s voice is soft and happy, the way Tony always wants him to sound. “Slept through breakfast, Bruce’s BLTs for lunch, and Buck’s pizza casserole–”

“ _Nooooooo_ ,” Tony whines, and wiggles around beneath a blanket that smells like apple pie and cinnamon. It smells like Steve, and Tony doesn’t even bother trying to hide how much he enjoys being surrounded by it.

“Stop your whinin’ Shellhead,” Steve chuckles. “I saved you _a whole quarter_.”

“‘S why I love ya, Cap,” Tony grins, and feels his heart skip a beat at the smile he gets in return.

“That the only reason why?”

“Well,” Tony stretches languidly before meeting those bright blue eyes. “You’re also pretty good at reaching the high shelves in the cupboards– I’m pretty sure Clint gets Thor to put all my mugs up there on purpose. Ungrateful bastard.”

“Don’t be mean,” Steve tuts, and then Tony lets out a shout of displeasure when the blanket is whipped off him.

“You fucking– I take back the ‘I love you– _Steve, you little shit, give it back_ – I hate you.”

“Let’s go get dinner.”

Tony pouts. “Carry me,” he says, and makes grabby hands at Steve.

“The team says I spoil you,” Steve crosses his arms, and he’s trying to look firm, but there’s no hiding the fond gleam in his eyes.

“It’s not my fault you’re in love with me. Everyone is.”

“You arrogant little _punk_ ,” Steve growls, and Tony doesn’t even have time to take a breath before the blond pounces on him, poking and tickling and swatting him with a cushion.

“Fuck– get off me, you fucking _lug_ – I can’t b-breathe!” He gasps between giggles and yelps.

“That outta teach ya,” Steve laughs, bright and playful. He’s all but straddling Tony where he lies, and god, now’s not the time to think about keeping the view to memory. “Y’know what, I might just eat the leftovers myself.”

“I will end you, Rogers,” Tony warns, pushing the blond off, and he hopes Steve doesn’t notice how breathless the words sound. “ _Move_!”

Steve rolls his eyes, but climbs off and holds out a hand. “Bossy,” he tuts. “Just for that, I’m takin’ half.”

“No you’re not. You love me.”

“God knows why,” Steve mutters, but his hand is soft in Tony’s as they leave the room. And if it lingers a second or two longer than usual, well, nobody’s complaining.


	47. The one where... Steve and Tony go to prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #3: “Wanna dance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Wanna dance?”

Tony doesn’t exactly startle at Steve’s voice, but he turns to glare at the blond when some of his apple cider spills over the rim of his glass. “I’m gonna get you a fucking bell one of these days, I swear,” he sighs, and tries not to let his eyes linger too long on the breadth of Steve’s shoulders in his dark blue suit.

_God damn…_

“Okay, but in the meantime, put that down and come dance with me.”

“Now? What’ll the people say?” Tony grins, but puts his drink down to take the other boy’s hand.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Steve says. “I’ve been practicin’, and now I wanna dance.”

“Get Natasha, then.”

“I don’t want her. I want you.”

“Bossy, bossy, bossy,” Tony tuts, and hopes to God no one can see the blush he can feel growing across his face when they turn to face each other on the dance floor.

“I knew I could count on you,” Steve smiles, pulling Tony this way and that as they begin swaying to the music. There’s more than one eye glancing their way– Pepper’s, too, and the rest of the gang’s– but neither of them pay them any mind.

“You’re in a happy mood tonight, big guy,” Tony narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “Care to share?”

“I’m glad you’re here with me. I’m glad you said yes.”

“Kinda hard not to, when you hijack the school speaker system in the middle of the morning announcements to ask me.”

Steve’s smile grows. “That’s why I did it. And it was worth Vice Principal Coulson’s phone call to my Ma.”

“She still hasn’t let me forget it, y’know. Boy scout, my ass– you’re a menace, Rogers.”

“Hey, hey! I’ve got the badges to prove it, mister.”

“Yeah, I see ‘em every time I come over,” Tony smirks. “Framed and everything, you’re adorable.”

“That was my Ma.”

“Sure it was, sunshine.”

Steve lets out a laugh, and pulls Tony in just a little bit closer. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Tony breathes. His suit suddenly feels too warm, too tight to hold his pounding heart. The thought of Steve feeling it through both their chests terrifies him, but he’s completely powerless to stop it, or to pull away. “You look…” He trails off, closing his eyes to rest his cheek on his best friend’s shoulder.

“I look…”

“ _Perfect_ ,” he finally says, after a long silence, and smiles when he feels Steve press a kiss to his temple.


	48. The one where... Steve and Tony have some early morning pillow talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #4: “Tell me a secret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Tell me a secret.”

Steve smiles into Tony’s hair even as his eyes stay closed. The feeling of cool crisp sheets is rivaled only by the warm, delicious touch of Tony’s hands on his chest, and lower… “Now?”

“No, in a month.”

“Okay, in a month,” Steve hums, and breathes out a laugh when Tony pokes his stomach.

“ _Steeeeeeve._ ”

“You’re awfully chipper this morning, mister.”

“I think I’m allowed a break. It’s not every day I wake up a married man, y’know,” Tony purrs, stressing the last two words with a sharp, quick nip at the skin behind Steve’s ear.

“I like the sound of that,” Steve groans, hips rocking up to meet the brunet’s slightly thrusting ones. “Seems like– _sweet Mother of_ – seems like a good reason t– _oh God_ – to be in a good m-mood.”

“You think?” Tony laughs, and then lets out a sharp breath when Steve flips him over onto his back, straddling his waist to stall the movement of their bodies. “You know I get so fucking turned on when you do that, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve grins. “But you woke me up for a reason, and I don’t think this was one of ‘em.”

“True,” Tony arches his back, half-lidded eyes sparking in the soft, early morning light. “Although _this_ ,” he rakes his nails down Steve’s back, “is always good a reason. For anything.”

Steve rolls his eyes even as he feels his cheeks burn, and he leans down to peck his husband’s lips before climbing off to stretch out on the bed again. “You were sayin’?”

“Tell me a secret.”

“You sure?”

“Bring it, hon.”

Steve takes a deep breath, pulls the brunet close, and whispers his response. “I’ve dreamt about having kids. With you.”

Tony goes utterly still in his arms. “… _Oh_.”

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable, but it feels charged with something nonetheless, something like trepidation. Or maybe anticipation. Steve presses a kiss to Tony’s temple, and soothes his thumb over his hipbone as he waits it out.

“I, uh–”

“We don’t…” Steve swallows. “We don’t have to, um, talk about it. If it makes you… uncomfortable–”

“No, it’s… it doesn’t,” Tony stutters, and when he looks up, Steve’s surprised to see a bright blush on his cheeks. “Tell me about them?”

“Our kids?” Steve asks, and hears the brunet let out something that could almost be a chuckle, soft and stilted as it is.

“Your dreams, you meatball.”

Steve ignores the fond jab, and closes his eyes, finding himself hesitant to meet Tony’s gaze. “They’re not… most of ‘em are hazy, and short. But sometimes… I dunno, there’s a little boy with your eyes and smile. And sometimes there’ll be a girl who’s the spitting image of my Ma. But you… you’re always there. Every time. And they always call you Daddy.”

“Steve–” Tony’s voice is as breathless as he’s ever heard it.

“I know they’re just dreams. We’ve never even… talked about anything like that, but it just– it happened once, and then again, and… yeah…”

Tony says nothing, and except for the small, minuscule brush of his fingers on Steve’s chest, he doesn’t move a muscle. Steve just holds him, trying to soothe the rapid beating of his heart.

“Howard told me I’d make a shitty dad once– I told him it takes one to know one. Sometimes I think he’s right.”

“Sweetheart…”

“But he also said Captain America would be disappointed in me.”

“Tony–”

“Obviously he was wrong about that, huh?”

“ _So fucking wrong_ ,” Steve rasps, eyes suddenly burning with grief and anger, but so much love, he wonders how his heart hasn’t burst from it.

Tony’s laughter feels like sunshine on his skin. “And I think,” he presses a kiss against Steve’s jaw. “If anyone can talk me into doing something, it’s the only person more fucking stubborn than me.”

All the air leaves Steve’s lungs, and he pulls back to meet burning brown eyes. “What are you saying…”

“You make me–” Tony swallows, but doesn’t look away. “I’m not half as good at anything, as I am when I’m doing it next to you. You make me better, baby. So as long as you’re in this with me–”

“Always.”

“Then maybe I can prove the old man wrong.”

“I know you can,” Steve says, and leans in to taste the smile on his husband’s lips. It’s soft and light, but full of endless promise, and neither of them pull away until both of them are breathless.

“So, uh,” Tony rasps. “That– that was kind of a heavy talk for a honeymoon, cupcake.”

“You’re the one fishin’ for secrets, mister,” Steve laughs.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d go for something more… I don’t know, dirty.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“I forgive you, gorgeous,” Tony smirks. “See, I’m so good at this husband thing already.”

“If you say so, dear.”

“Oooh, I could get used to hearing _that_.”

“Yeah? Well don’t.”

“You’re so mean, I can’t even remember why I married you anymore,” Tony sighs.

Steve feels a wicked grin settle on his face. “Let me remind you, then,” he growls, and pulls his husband in again.


	49. The one where... Tony’s a doctor, and Steve is hot like BURNING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #5: “I need a favor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I need a favor.”

Tony shakes his head. “I’m not taking over your shift so you can go bang your firefighter boyfriend.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, and he knows the only reason she’s not hitting him is because they’re in a room full of patients. “One day, Stark…”

“You say that every day,” he grins. “What’s the favor, then?”

“One of the guys in his crew was just brought in– got hit by a beam on his way out of a building, and he got a pretty nasty gash on the head. Almost got concussed.”

“And you need me to do this, why?”

“He got assigned to me, but Mrs. Parker just freaked out during her MRI, so I need to go calm her down.”

“…Shit. Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty good reason,” Tony nods. 

“Besides, all your hovering around here is getting annoying.”

“I’m checking up on my residents, Red.”

“They’re not kids, and they’re doing a damn good job. Go take care of the Captain.”

“Oh god, is he old?” Tony grimaces. “This isn’t fair, you owe me, Dr. Romanoff!”

Natasha sends him a wave over her shoulder as she walks away. “He’s in room seven, Dr. Stark.”

Now, room seven isn’t a small room by any means– neither are the rest of the rooms in this wing of the hospital– but his first thought when he enters is that it feels oddly cramped.

Then he sees his patient, and everything else falls away.

“Oh shit, you’re hot.” Bright blue eyes widen in surprise, and Tony feels a shiver of delicious pleasure run through him when they not so discreetly check him out. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

There’s a faint snickering coming from the corner of the room, but Tony doesn’t even bother looking away from the most beautiful human being he’s ever seen. Even sitting down, Tony can tell that the man is easily six feet plus, with broad, muscled shoulders he suddenly wants to run his mouth over.

So that’s why the room feels small.

He licks his lips before he knows he’s doing it, and hears the chuckles from around the room grow into full fledged laughter.

“Um, hi,” Big, Blond and Beautiful says, and to Tony’s horror, he feels his knees buckle when the man smiles softly.

_Fuck._

“Hi,” he replies, and if the word comes out a little breathless, he doesn’t think anyone could blame him.

“Well, this is a first.”

Tony finally forces himself to look away, facing two other men lounging around in the chairs by the window, both of them grinning like children.

“You guys do know you’re not supposed to be in here, right?” he asks.

“Romanoff said it was cool,” the scruffy-looking one says. “And honestly, there’s no way I’m leavin’ now.”

“Bucky–” Blondie mumbles.

“Just sit there and look pretty, Cap,” says the other firefighter, a dark-skinned man with one of the friendliest smiles Tony’s ever seen. “Let the good doc take care of ya.”

His friend–Bucky?– bows his head as he starts giggling again, and Tony sees Blondie’s cheek flush the most beautiful shade of pink. He takes a deep, steadying breath, and turns back to him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he says.

Blondie smiles. “No problem. Doctor Romanoff apologized, and said you’d be here as soon as you could.”

“She could’ve at least cleaned you up first.”

“Maybe she thought he’d like to do it himself.”

“ _Sam Wilson_ ,” Blondie growls over his shoulder. “I will throw you out this room myself.”

“Well, she _does_ know me,” Tony smirks, even as he feels his face burn. He walks up the the bed until he’s standing in front of the Captain, right in between those thick, sooted thighs. Up close, the man’s even more beautiful than before, and Tony tries in vain to keep his heartbeat steady. “Hold still then, Captain.”

“It’s Steve.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Steve,” Tony says, as he sets about cleaning the wound. “I’m Dr. Stark.“

“Yeah, I know.” Steve doesn’t stop smiling, even when Tony’s sure he wants to wince at the pain in his head.

“Oh, do you?”

“Mhmm. Dr. Romanoff said.”

“How’re you feeling, then?” Tony asks, trying to keep himself from staring at the baby blues before him. It’s a lost cause. “Any dizziness? Nausea? Anything?”

“Well,” Steve bites his lip, and meets Tony’s gaze head on. “I do feel a little lightheaded, but… that might be because you’re so gorgeous.”

Bucky and Sam let out matching cackles, but Tony pays them no mind. “I bet you say that to all the doctors.”

“Just the prettiest one,” Steve says softly.

“Oh, you’re dangerous,” Tony breathes. It’s taking everything he has not to just lean in and–

“He’s gonna be okay, right?”

“Wh– oh, yeah, sure,” he nods, and looks over Steve’s shoulder again to the other two men. Despite the shit-eating grins on their friends, their concern is more than evident. “Head wounds are no joke, though, so you’re gonna take it easy for the next day or two, and at the first sign of trouble, you come right back here. _Capiche_?”

Steve is all dimples and sunshine. “Yes, sir.”

 _Oh shit_ , Tony thinks.

_I’m in trouble._


	50. The one where... Steve is going to miss Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #6: “Fancy seeing you here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

In the midnight silence of the Stark Tower living room, Tony’s low, tired voice sounds louder than it really is, and Steve turns away from the New York skyline in time to see him plop down into the couch. “Hey, Shellhead.”

“What’s a guy like you doin’ in a place like this?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn’t waste time in going over and joining the brunet. “You ever get tired of saying that?” he asks, even as he feels his cheeks flush from the bright, absolutely gorgeous grin Tony gives him.

“Not when it makes you blush like that.”

“Zip it, mister,” Steve orders. “And shouldn’t you be sleepin’? Your flight leaves pretty early.”

“My plane, my schedule,” Tony waves his hand lazily. “I will go when I’m good and ready, Captain Rogers.”

“You’re a menace,” Steve sighs, but doesn’t pull away when the brunet lowers his head onto his shoulders. “I’m going to miss you, y’know…”

“Not as much as me,” Tony whispers back, so soft that Steve almost misses the words. “You sure I can’t convince you to come with me? You’ve never been to Argentina, right?”

“You know I’d love to,” Steve replies, and hopes Tony hears every bit of truth in his words. Because he really would love to– he’d love to sit next to Tony on the plane, to have the brunet’s head on his shoulders like he does now, to see him exuding that genius and charm Steve loves so much. He’d love to sneak Tony away from his work for an afternoon and have lunch at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant no one would think of looking them in, both of them smiling when their fingers brush as they walk down an old, crowded street.

He wants it more than he’s wanted anything in a long time. But until he can have that, he knows his place is here, knows it as much as he knows that Tony does too. “The team would fall apart with both of us gone, though,” he continues, and feels Tony’s sigh echo down both their chests.

“I’ll bring you a souvenir then, yeah?”

“I’d rather just have you back.”

“Well, who wouldn’t,” Tony says, and Steve can hear the smile in his voice. “And why are you up, anyway? Missin’ me already?”

Steve closes his eyes, and breathes in the scent of Tony’s hair. “The Tower always feels a little colder when you’re gone.”

Tony makes a faint, curious little sound, and he lifts his head to rest his chin on Steve’s shoulder. Even in the dim light, his eyes are still that perfect shade of brown Steve wants to wrap himself up in.

“Ignore me,” he sighs. “‘M probably makin’ no sense–”

“I get it.”

“Do you?” Steve asks, and finds himself a little breathless as he waits for an answer.

Tony just nods, and noses the fabric of Steve’s shirt once, then again, before laying his head back down. “You know we’re not moving for the rest of the night, though, right?”

“Good thing I don’t want to, then,” Steve says, and revels in the warmth of their bodies as they drift off to sleep.


	51. The one where...  at least Steve and Tony have each other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #7: “It could be worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“It could be worse.”

“Okay, somewhere in my mind there’s a little voice saying ‘Steve’s right’,” Tony grumbles, “but right now, I’m really not seeing how.”

“At least we’re both here,” Steve says, a happy smile lighting up his face, and Tony feels a familiar warmth rush through him.

“Well it’s not like I’d be doing this on my own,” he replies, almost a little breathless at how beautiful the blond looks in the soft lamplight around them. 

“Plus, we’ve got sleeping bags!” Steve points to a tiny pile in the corner of the living room, the only things they’d put in Tony’s car for the drive up to Cambridge. “And, uh,” he goes over to uncover a box, “and… your toaster. Tony, why is your toaster the only thing in this box?”

“Because Toasty doesn’t like sharing space with the other appliances, the greedy bastard.”

Steve rolls his eyes even as he laughs, making his way back to Tony’s side, and if Tony notices they’re just a little bit closer this time, he’s definitely not complaining.

“I’m gonna sue those fuckers,” he sighs.

“Tony–”

“It’s a four hour drive! It’s not like we’re on the other side of the fucking country. How do you get lost?”

“Things happen, Tony. And they already apologized.”

“Yeah, well, when I can decorate my apartment–”

“ _Our_ apartment–”

“--with apologies, then I’ll calm the fuck down,” Tony huffs. 

“It’s not so bad,” Steve shrugs. “I’ve got you, you’ve got me, and this is a pretty damn good chow mein, dontcha think?” he holds up one of the white takeout cartons sitting in their makeshift table– another box holding some of Steve’s art supplies.

“This can’t possibly not bother you,” Tony says incredulously. “Seriously, Steve.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t,” Steve points out. “But this is…it’s kinda fun.”

“You _would_ think so,” Tony rolls his eyes, and then yelps when Steve all but pulls him into his lap. “Hey! Let me go, you– you _lug_!”

But Steve just grins, and holds him tighter. “Turn that frown upside down, mister. Come mornin’, they’ll be here with all our stuff, you’ll see.”

“You better be right, Rogers.”

“When am I not?” Steve jostles him, and Tony turns to level him with an unimpressed look.

“Are you kidding me? We’d be here all night if you really want me to answer that.”

There’s a glimmer of challenge in Steve’s eyes. “Not like we got any place else to be, Stark.”

“Better get comfortable, then,” Tony smirks.

“I am,” Steve says, all earnest smiles and warm blue eyes, and Tony looks away to hide his burning cheeks.

“Okay then, remember that one time in sixth grade…”

\- - - - -

“Hey.”

“ _M’what_ …”

“You awake?”

Steve sighs, and then rolls over to face him. “I am now.”

“These floors are too fucking hard.”

“‘Kay?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“…Did you try countin–”

“That doesn’t work,” Tony whines, and in the moonlight peaking out from the window, sees Steve roll his eyes.

“Alright,” the blond sits up, wriggling out of his sleeping bag, and holds out his hand. “Gimme.”

“What–”

“Sleeping bag, please.”

Tony does as he’s told. “You gonna make me sleep in the cold?” he jokes.

“It’d serve you right, for wakin’ me up,” Steve gives him a weak glare, even as he’s clearly holding back a smile.

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy.”

“Zip it,” Steve grumbles, and then presents the now giant, singular sleeping bag. “Alright, get back in.”

“We’re still on the floor, Steve.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” he replies, tucking his enormous body inside. “Come on, then. Y’can sleep on top ‘f me.”

Tony manages to keep his voice steady. “Seriously?”

“Sure. You’re tiny, anyway,” Steve smirks. His eyes are already closed, and he looks so comfortable in the empty space of their new living room that Tony forces his body to relax as he wriggles in to join him. 

“‘M not tiny,” he mumbles, head finding it’s familiar perch on Steve’s shoulder. He closes his eyes just as he registers warm, familiar arms around his waist, and feels better than he has all day. 

"If you say so,” Steve says, and Tony doesn’t have to look up to know that he’s grinning again. “And don’t snore, okay?”

“I don’t snore, you ass,” he mutters, poking the blond’s side not-so-gently even as his own lips quirk up. “I’m regretting all of this already.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Goodnight, Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony sighs. “Back atcha, handsome.”


	52. The one where... Tony likes wearing a certain Super Soldier’s clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #8: “Why are you stealing my clothes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Why are you stealing my clothes?”

Tony shrugs, and hides his smile behind his coffee mug. “It’s how I cope. You’re not the one being left behind, so you can’t complain.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not complainin’,” Steve says, voice low and rough as he walks up by the counter beside Tony. “I kinda like the sight of you in ‘em.”

Tony barely manages to hide the shiver that runs down his spine at the whisper soft touch of the blond’s fingers along his sweater-clad side. “Don’t try to charm your way out of this, big guy.”

Steve sighs. “I’ll be careful, Shellhead. I promise. We all will.”

“You’d better,” Tony dusts an imaginary fleck of dust off Steve’s uniform. “‘Cause I’ll kill you myself if you don’t.” 

“Wouldn’t want that,” Steve smiles. “Who’d you steal clothes off of then?”

“Good point, _mon Capitaine_. Who knew grandpa garbs could be so comfortable?”

“Hoodies are hardly ‘grandpa garbs’. This one’s even got your face on it.”

“Imagine my surprise when I found it in your drawers,” Tony grins. “Why is this the first time I’m seeing this, and more importantly, why the fuck haven’t you worn it?”

“Maybe you’re not around when I do,” Steve mumbles, looking adorably shy even as he squares his shoulders.

Tony licks his lips. “Aw, you miss me when I’m gone, handsome?” he looks up at the blond from beneath his lashes. “If you wanted me to be all over you, all you had to do was ask.”

“Can it, mister,” Steve laughs, bumping his shoulder with Tony’s as he grabs his own to-go mug. “I hope the mission wraps up quickly. I don’t like bein’ away for too long.”

“That makes two of us,” Tony can’t help but sigh. “With my luck, Pepper will pop up with a fuck ton of work as soon as you leave, the slave-driver.”

“You underestimate me. I’ve been here since six,” a familiar voice says, and Tony hears the click of heels a second later as Pepper enters with a thick folder on her arm. “Figured I could try to get to you as soon as possible. It’s a bitch getting him out of his funk when you leave,” she smiles at Steve, who returns it with one of his own, that pleased, ‘aw shucks’ grin that Tony is an absolute goner for.

“Really?”

“Don’t be smug, you ass,” Tony growls at him.

“I’m not. It’s just... Maybe I like knowing you miss me.”

“Steve--”

“God knows I miss you too,” Steve finishes softly, eyes warm and bright as they meet Tony’s.

“Alright, get outta here before I drown in all your sap,” he says, even as he feels his cheeks grow warmer than the coffee in his hands.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Pepper speaks up. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

“You always do, Miss Potts,” Steve’s smile is all charms. “I should definitely head on out now, though. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back.” He shakes her hand, and turns back to Tony. “Be good, okay?”

Tony rolls his eyes but nods, and then breathes around a pathetic, lovesick sigh as Steve leans over to brush a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be back,” he hears the blond whisper.

“I think we’ve already established that you don’t have a choice,” he replies, giving himself a second to lean against Steve’s shoulder before pulling away. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Yes sir,” Steve grins, and waves over his shoulder as he leaves the kitchen.

Tony smothers the ridiculous urge to run after him, and takes a long swig of coffee instead. “Alright, Pepper pot,” he gives the woman his most winning smile. “Hand ‘em over.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he says, firm and because he _does_ know. “It’s Steve.”

“Exactly,” Pepper smiles, and Tony lets her lead him out the room.


	53. The one where... the gang goes camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #9: “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

“Don’ wanna,” Tony grumbles, burrowing further into his sleeping bag to chase the warmth he can feel slipping away. “Cuddle me, ‘m cold.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“ _Steve._ ”

“You promised.”

“Moment ‘f weakness,” Tony pokes his head out, glaring at Steve through half-opened eyes. “You were all... smilin’ and shit.”

Even in the dim, early morning light filling the tent, Steve’s blush is as beautiful as ever. “What if I smiled now?”

“Nope, too late,” Tony groans, wiggling closer to the warm bulk of his best friend. “I’m not leaving, ‘n neither are you. I’m dyin’ here, Rogers, come on, have mercy.”

“It’s not that cold,” Steve laughs. but stretches out beside Tony to pull him into his arms.

“Tell that to my freezing ba--”

Steve puts a warm hand over Tony’s mouth. “Come on, just this once,” he says. “And I’ll never bother you again. We can take hot chocolate and a blanket, yeah? It won’t take long, but we need to go now. Please?”

Tony blinks once, twice, then rolls his eyes and nods. “Can’t you get anyone else to go with you?”

“I already asked ‘em yesterday,” Steve says, “and I’m, uh... I’m not too keen to go knockin’ on Bucky and Peg’s tent.”

“Well, they probably have better things to do, huh?” Tony grins at the blond’s blush. Up close, he can see every sun-kissed Irish freckle dotting Steve’s cheeks and nose, every shade of blue in those eyes he’s been in love with for years.

“Yeah,” is all Steve says. “Wouldn’t matter if they didn’t, though. You’re the one I wanna do this with.”

“No need butter me up, big guy. I’m goin’,” Tony mutters, but hides his burning face into the lapels of Steve’s coat. “You fight dirty.”

“How else am I supposed to keep up with ya?” Steve asks, voice as warm as his embrace.

Tony closes his eyes, and breathes it in. “I think you’re doing just fine.”

\- - - - -

“Having fun so far?”

Tony doesn’t bother lifting his head from Steve’s shoulders. “I guess it’s... nice. If this is your kind of thing,” he says, looking out at the vast forest spread out beneath the cliff they’re sitting on. The sunrise is softer than he’d expected, tempered by the cloudy sky above, and despite the winter morning chill, he feels very little outside the arm pressing him to the blond’s side. “You could totally rock the whole rugged, mountain man thing, y’know.”

“Thanks,” Steve fiddles with the large thermos on his lap. “I wish I’d brought my sketchbook, the view is gorgeous.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve got the next best thing,” Tony digs inside his coat and pulls out his phone. “Go nuts.”

“Only a couple, okay? I promise,” Steve buts his head softly against Tony’s in thanks. “Just to refresh my memory later.”

“Right,” Tony scoffs, but doesn’t break the comfortable silence that settles around them for the next couple of minutes. The sweet taste of the hot chocolate still lingers in his throat, and he closes his eyes against the sound of Steve’s breathing.

“Hey...” 

“Hmm?” Tony mumbles.

“Open your eyes?”

Tony does. “What.”

Steve smiles down at him. “Take a picture with me.”

“Wh--now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Go on, then,” Tony sighs, and grins at his phone when it’s aimed their way. “Lemme see.”

Steve hands it over after a moment of hesitation, and Tony’s heart skips a beat when he finally sees the screen. He recognizes the fond gleam in his own eyes, still faintly blurry from sleep, and his hair is a mass of tousled waves from the wind around them.

But it’s Steve Tony can’t look away from, because the blond’s not smiling at the camera like Tony was. No, Steve has his head turned towards him, eyes closed as he presses his lips to the side of Tony’s head.

The contrast between them-- his dark eyes, hair and coat, to the pale, firm curve of Steve’s jaw, and the way his hair shines like gold from the sun-- is striking. Absolutely beautiful.

Tony thinks he could look at it forever.

“You meatball,” he mutters, but his lips are quirked up in a helpless smile. “One day, I’m gonna end up drowning in all your sap.”

Steve shoulders shake with laughter. “You love it.”

Tony nuzzles into the blond’s arm in lieu of an answer, and feels his smile grow when he feels Steve’s hand find his.


	54. The one where... there are banana peels, then blue shells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #10: “I swear it was an accident.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I swear it was an accident.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was. Just like the last time you dropped the other banana peel.”

“You callin’ me a liar, Rogers?”

Steve doesn’t look away from the screen. “In about a minute, I’ll be calling you a loser!”

Tony narrows his eyes even he feels his heart melt a little at the adorable furrow in the blond’s brow as he devotes Captain America levels of concentration to winning the race. “Didn’t think you’d get so serious about MarioKart, Cap.”

“A mission is a mission,” Steve says, and then turns to give Tony a grin. “Plus, I’ve got a little present for ya.”

Tony smirks. “Oh rea– _you did not just blue shell me, you little shit!_ ”

“I swear it was an accident,” Steve shrugs, and laughs as his Mario speeds past Tony’s Yoshi and through the finish line.

Tony tosses his controller aside, glaring at the confetti flying all around on the screen in front of them. “Shoulda known you’d end up like this,” he huffs, but doesn’t struggle when the blond reaches out to pull him close.

“I’d apologize,” Steve says, lips brushing against Tony’s hair, making him shiver. “But the only reason I even got the blue shell was because you banana peel’d me.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna drive through it,” Tony points out. “You had fucking oceans of space! Coulda gone right past it.”

“I, uh… might’ve been a little distracted.”

Tony pulls away to meet baby blue eyes. “By what?” he scoffs.

“ _You_ ,” Steve whispers, and leans in to press their lips together.

It’s slow, whisper soft, and still as tentative as the first time, but it sends Tony’s heart racing like nothing else can, and he loses himself in the warmth of Steve’s lips as they caress his own.

“Not f-fair,” he gasps, when the warmth moves down to his jaw and neck. “You– _oh god_ – you can’t sweet talk your way outta this one, Rogers.”

Steve gives Tony’s skin a final nuzzle before pulling back. “It’s the truth. You can be awfully distractin’ when you wanna be, Mister Stark.”

“Oh, that’s just dirty,” Tony moans, arching his back to get closer to the blond.

Steve laughs, and pecks his scruffy chin. “I thought you liked dirty.”

“Take me to bed and I’ll show you how much,” Tony says, and lets out a low, throaty laugh when the blond jumps up, throws him over his shoulder, and carries him from the room.


	55. The one where... Steve and Tony undertake their biggest mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #11: “Are you gonna just sit there or are you gonna help me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Are you gonna just sit there or are you gonna help me?”

“Tony--”

“Don’t you wanna hear our baby say her first word?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yes, but you know you can’t make her do anything. She’s a stubborn one.”

“Takes after her old man,” Tony mutters, but leans in to press a press a kiss to their daughter’s soft hair, relishing the happy little squeal she gives him in return. 

“Which one?”

“Only one of us here is old.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve puts his coffee mug down gently. His eyes are the most earnest thing Tony’s ever seen. “You are not old.”

Tony smirks. “I was talking about _you_ , babe. I’m sure as hell not the nonagenarian.”

“Oh ha, ha,” Steve rolls his eyes, but walks over to Tony to look at their daughter over his shoulder. “Hear that, baby doll?” he coos. “Daddy’s being mean to Papa. What do you say we get back at him?”

“ _Ahhhhmmmm_ ,” their little girl replies.

“Say ‘Papa’, sweetie. That oughta show him.”

“No ‘Papa’,” Tony shakes his head. “Papa’s bad. Papa doesn’t believe in you like I do.”

“Papa wants to let her do things in her own time,” Steve chuckles.

“ _Ba!_ ”

“No, baby,” Tony lifts her from her high chair. “‘Da-ddy’. Say it with me, bella-- ‘Da-ddy’.”

Their daughter grins, all gums and dimpled cheeks. “.... _Gah!_ ”

“I told you,” Steve says. “Stubborn.”

“It’s gonna happen eventually,” Tony sighs. “And when it does, I’m gonna gloat so fu--”

“Language.”

“-- _Fudging_ much.”

“ _Ah bah!_ ”

“Paaaaa-paaaa,” Steve drawls, laughing when Tony glares and moves away. “Hey, come back!”

“Nope,” Tony shakes his head, walking faster out the kitchen and down the hall. “I’m not gonna let you brainwash her.”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he hears Steve say. “Tony!”

“You just want to take her from me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. You’re tied at the hip, the two of ya.”

Tony stops once he’s in the living room, turning at the foot of the couch to face Steve. “Jealous?”

His husband’s smile is all sunshine and happiness, and so much like their daughter’s, it almost hurts. In the best possible way, of course. “Not even a little bit. Makes me fall a little more in love with you, actually.”

“Oh, you fight dirty, Captain,” Tony breathes, even as he feels a sappy grin on his own face.

“Learned from the best,” Steve says.

“I’m flattered you think so.”

“ _Ahhh_ ,” says the bundle in his arms, and Tony looks down to see their baby making grabby hands at Steve.

“Of course you knew this would happen,” he groans, flopping down on the couch carefully and jostling his daughter until she’s a giggling, gurgling mess. “She’s as much of a goner for you as I am, isn’t she?”

Steve wastes no time in joining them, until they’re leaning into each other’s shoulders, their baby nestled in between them. “I hope she ends up getting a lot more from you.”

Tony scoffs. “Hon--”

"I can’t think of anything better than seeing you in everything she does,” Steve continues, voice soft with the same wonder Tony sees in his eyes as he looks at her.

“I’m still not giving her to you,” he mumbles, and doesn’t even care that the words come out a little shaky. Steve’s always had the ability to throw him off like that.

“I’d rather have the both of you here, anyway.”

“Well, you got us, you charmer.”

Steve leans in to kiss Tony’s cheek, and then their daughter’s. “Back atcha, sweetheart.”


	56. The one where... Steve is still HOT LIKE BURNING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Prompt #12: “Have you seen the-- oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Civil Union Fest Prompt #5, aka chapter 49! 
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“Hey, have you seen the– _oh_.”

Tony almost trips over his own feet when he enters the doctor’s lounge and _finds Steve Rogers standing right in the middle of it_.

“Look who came to visit,” Natasha smirks, lounging on one of the couches beside her boyfriend; Clint’s smile is just as smug as hers, the bastard.

“Hi,” Steve says, lips quirked up in the same bright grin Tony remembers from three days ago.

It’s just as beautiful, too.

“Um,” Tony licks his lips, and tries to calm the sudden pounding in his chest. His whole body feels warmer just looking at the blond. “You–” he takes a deep breath, and smiles back. “Hi.”

“Shit, Barnes was right,” Clint mumbles, and the only reason Tony doesn’t turn to glare at him is because Steve starts walking up to him and _oh fuck, is this what a heart attack feels like?_

“What–” he clears his throat, “what are you doing here? Is your head–”

“I’m fine,” Steve says, and then holds up a container Tony barely notices he’d been holding. “I just… Clint drove me over because I wanted to, um, give you a little something to say thanks–”

The words are out before Tony’s even finished thinking them. “Is it a kiss?”

Natasha lets out an uncharacteristic giggle, and even Dr. Banner– curled up in a recliner by the corner– snorts softly into his book.

“No,” Steve replies, a gorgeous blush settling onto his cheeks and down the neck of his FDNY t-shirt. “Not yet, at least.”

Tony almost moans at the thought.

“I made you some cupcakes, though,” Steve holds them out. “If you– if you want ‘em.”

“Okay, yeah,” Tony takes the container and nods, cheeks hurting from how hard he’s grinning now. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

“Bet you’d taste sweeter, though.”

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Clint cackles, and jumps up from his seat. “Nat, babe, get me out of here, I’m dying. Bruce, buddy, come with.”

“I’m reading–”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure they’re about to start sucking face–”

“Clint Francis Barton, if you finish that sentence, I swear I will put you on truck-wash duty,” Steve says loudly, eyes not leaving Tony’s.

Clint’s laughter follows him out the door and down the hall, and then, with an amused little wave from Bruce, Tony finds himself alone with Steve.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.

Steve nods. “Head was achin’ something fierce that first night, though.”

“Well yeah, that tends to happen when something almost cracks it open,” Tony says, and can’t resist reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers against the butterfly bandage on Steve’s temple. “God, there is no way you should look this good with a gash on your head.”

Steve’s blush comes back with a vengeance. “The guys at the station aren’t gonna let me forget this anytime soon. I think they’ve got half a mind to permanently strap the helmet to my neck.”

“I second that,” Tony says. “Even if it keeps you from dropping by around here.”

“Doesn’t have to,” Steve says softly, and then points to the cupcakes. “I didn’t know which kind you like, but I figured you can’t go wrong with chocolate.”

“A man after my own heart,” Tony hums, popping open the plastic lid to revel in the fresh, sweet smell of strawberry icing. “If they taste as good as you look, I’m keeping you.”

“That’s kinda what I’m hopin’ for.”

Tony raises an eyebrow playfully. “Oh, really?”

“Sure thing, doc.”

“Jesus Christ, you can’t possibly be real.”

Steve bites his lip, and then squares his ridiculously gorgeous shoulders. “Let me take you out, and I’ll prove you wrong.”

“Fuck yeah,” Tony breathes, and even though it’s impossible, he wonders if Steve can hear how fast his heart is beating.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, voice as soft as his eyes are hopeful, and really, he has no business looking better than anything Tony’s ever seen. “Shit, okay, that’s– oh man, I’m actually feelin’ a little lightheaded again…”

They’re still standing in the middle of the lounge, grinning at each other like a idiots, but god, Tony can’t remember the last time he felt this way about anyone. “You’re not the only one.”


	57. The one where... Steve can’t stop staring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #13: “Quit Staring!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Quit staring!”

“What?” Steve says absently, eyes never leaving the storefront window.

“I swear to Christ, man, if you stare at any harder, he’s gonna notice eventually.”

“I’m not starin’,” he mumbles, and reluctantly drops his gaze to the flowers he’d been arranging in a vase.

“Maybe I’d believe that shit, if you did too.”

“Buck–”

His best friend sighs, and rubs his a hand over his face. “Just go over there and talk to him, Stevie. Ask him out.”

“I… I can’t–”

“Why not?”

“Bucky–”

“This is getting pathetic,” Bucky says, and Steve turns to him with a glare. “I’m tired of seein’ the both of you droolin’ over each other.”

“He doesn’t–” Steve shakes his head, and tries not to sound as lovesick as he feels. “Not over me.”

“You’re an idiot. So is he–”

“No he’s not.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You’re so fucking gone, Jesus. But y’know what? I’m not gonna sit here and take any more of this, I’m goin’ over there–”

“Oh god, please don’t say anything,” Steve pleads. “Buck, I–”

“Relax, Stevie, I won’t. I’m not an asshole.”

Steve nods. “I know.”

“I’m just cravin’ brownies. I’ll be back in a bit, ‘kay?”

“Can you… bring me one back? Please?” Steve smiles.

Bucky rolls his eyes, but grins over his shoulder as he leaves the store. “I’ll do you one better, punk.”

\- - - - -

The chime of the bell above the door jingles some time later, but Steve doesn’t even look up from the account books. “Welcome to The Flower Pot, I’ll be with you in a sec.”

“Aw, but I got you a present, sunshine,” says a warm, familiar voice, and Steve almost shivers when his eyes rise to meet gorgeous brown ones.

“Hey.”

“Is for horses,” Tony smirks, sauntering up to the counter with a bright blue box in hand.

“Spoken like a true city boy.”

“It takes one to know one, Brooklyn.”

Steve rolls his eyes, even as his cheeks flush from the mischievous glint in Tony’s. “Somethin’ I can help you with?” he asks, and is relieved when his voice doesn’t come out as breathless as he feels.

“I can think of a few things,” Tony purrs, leaning forward so that the words brush against Steve’s skin like the softest of kisses.

“Y-yeah?” he breathes.

Tony hums, and then abruptly pulls away. “I need…your finest sunflower.”

Steve frowns. “Just one?”

“Yep. And here,” Tony slides the little box over to him. “I brought payment!”

Steve feels a giddy smile threatening to break through. “You brought me–”

“The last brownie, big guy. Made by yours truly.”

“You didn’t have to,” Steve says softly, and feels his heart skip a beat when Tony’s eyes move down to his lips.

“I know. But I know how much you love ‘em. Now, where’s my flower?”

“Comin’ right up,” Steve nods, and moves to the back room. He wants nothing more than to ask him who it’s for– who the lucky soul is, to get a gift like that from Tony Stark– but he stays silent as he picks out the freshest, most vibrant sunflower from the bunch, and takes it back to the brunet with a smile.

“Thanks, beautiful,” Tony grins, all dimpled cheeks and crinkling eyes, and Steve wants to kiss him more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

“Anytime,” he replies, and revels in the warmth blooming in his chest.


	58. The one where... Steve can’t hold back anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #14: “Have you lost your damn mind?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“ _Have you lost your damn mind_?!”

“A couple of years back, yeah,” Tony replies, not bothering to look up from the cut on his arm that he’s bandaging. “Thought you knew that by now.”

“And I thought you were over your self-sacrificing bullshit.” Steve’s voice is loud and hard, and despite Tony’s earlier resolve not to argue and end the night in the proverbial dog house, he looks up to meet cold blue eyes.

“Well, I like to keep you on your toes sometimes,” he says.

Steve just grinds his jaw, and doesn’t say a word. His uniform is dirty, mud and rain and alien slime still sticking to his shoulders and legs, but Steve Rogers is still every inch Tony’s Captain. It makes him breathe out a sigh, relaxing the tenseness throughout his body.

“I’m not sorry, y’know.”

Steve flinches. “Don’t say that.”

“Won’t stop being true even if I do.”

“Goddamn it,” Steve laughs, a brittle, humorless little sound that Tony thinks has no business doing anything near Steve Rogers. “Is it going to be like this every time?”

“If it has to.”

“What does that even mean?” Steve steps closer. “Tony, you can’t keep putting yourself in the line of fire!”

The pain in his voice is almost worse than Tony’s own wound. “Better me than you, though, right?”

“You...” Steve sucks in a breath, eyes wide with disbelief. “You can’t-- you really think that?”

“Don’t need to,” Tony replies. “It’s the truth. And honestly, I still don’t get why you get so worked up abou--”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Tony feels his heart stop. “ _What_?”

“I said I’m in love with you,” Steve whispers, lips trembling and fists clenched at his side. The tears in his eyes hit Tony like daggers. “And I’m terrified.”

“Steve--” he breathes.

“You know... you _know_ how much I’ve lost. And I-- god, the only reason I’m still standing is because you’re with me.”

“Steve,” Tony says again, but the blond just shakes his head.

“I can’t do this without you, don’t you know that?” Steve walks up to him, closer and closer, until Tony can see the trail of tears down his cheeks. “I _need_ you.”

“And you don’t think I need you? How do you think I feel when you pull the same fucking thing more times than I can count?” Tony yells, and suddenly every moment he’s been on the opposite end is suddenly coming to mind like a flood; the anger and the helplessness, and the sheer terror are almost enough to drown him.

“That’s--”

“I swear to God, Steve,” he growls, “if you say ‘that’s different’, I will walk away.”

“Tony--”

“Shut up!” Tony rasps, and he can barely talk around the lump in his throat, but he’s going to get this out if it kills him. “Did it ever occur to you that I do that for the same reasons? Ever think of that?

”Why would you do th--”

“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!”

Steve reels back like he’s been slapped. “You--”

“Yeah...” Tony whispers. He can barely see the blond through his burning eyes, but feels Steve’s warmth as the man walks up to him.

“I love you too, Shellhead,” Steve says softly.

“ _Why_?” Tony asks, ragged and shaky as he feels.

“Because you’re my best friend. Because even when you drive me absolutely crazy, I’m still happiest when I’m with you. And I can’t think of anything worse than losin’ you.”

“Back atcha, big guy,” Tony says, and lets out a long, heavy breath when he feels Steve lean in and press a kiss to his forehead.


	59. The one where... Tony supports Steve on his Special Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #15: “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Rhodey rolls his eyes. “You can stop pretending you’re not dying to see this, Tony.”

“I’m–”

“Hey look, it’s Steve!”

Tony almost gives himself whiplash. “Where?”

“Oh, never mind, it’s just Thor,” Rhodey grins, pointing to the tall, beefy blond in the distance, and then yelps when Tony whacks him in the shoulder. “Honest mistake, I swear, I’m sorry!”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Tony grumbles, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets as he follows the other boy into a crowded row of bleachers. “I shoulda just come here by myself.”

Rhodey bumps his shoulders. “You kidding me? No way I’d miss you seeing Steve Rogers play football for the first time.”

“I’m… here for support,” Tony says weakly. “Kid’s been whining about joining the team for years, it’s about damn time.”

“Doesn’t hurt that he shot up like a weed over the summer,” says a low, silky voice beside him, and he turns to find Natasha smirking as she looks out onto the field.

“Here to see your boyfriend, Red?”

“Mmhmm, just like you.”

Rhodey howls with laughter, and Tony glares at them even as he feels his cheeks grow warm. “He’s not–” he starts, but Natasha suddenly jostles him hard. “What–”

“ _Tony!_ ”

The bright, clear voice breaks through the loud bustle around them, and Tony wills his heart to keep a steady rhythm as Steve squeezes through students to reach them. “Hey,” he says, relieved when his voice doesn’t come out as shaky as he suddenly feels.

Steve’s grin is bright and boyish, and so beautiful, Tony wants to cry. “I’m so happy you made it.”

“Me too,” he breathes, and can’t keep his eyes from running over Steve’s body in that uniform. “Rockin’ those tights, tiger.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but looks shy and pleased all at once. “I feel a little ridiculous, to be honest.”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted this,” Tony pokes his chest. “So go out there and show ‘em who’s boss, yeah?”

“Okay,” Steve nods, and then Tony’s heart skips a beat when he smirks. “Gonna gimme a kiss for luck?”

“Didn’t think you needed it.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be sure.”

Tony bites his lip, and then leans up to press a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek. “There. Don’t lose, big guy.”

Steve nods again, cheeks flushing a delicious shade of pink that sends a pang of familiar longing straight to Tony’s gut. “I ain’t planning to.”

“Chop chop, then,” Tony pats one wide, padded shoulder. “Go do your thing.”

“Wait for me after the game?” Steve asks, hope lacing every word.

Tony can only nod, and bite back a groan at the sight of Steve’s ass as he turns and runs back down to the field.

“I love football,” Natasha murmurs.

“Football’s the best.”

“Do either of you care if they actually win?” Rhodey groans.

“Well, we obviously don’t want them to lose, honey bear,” Tony replies. “Especially not against, uh… who are they playing?” he whispers to Natasha.

“AIM Academy.”

"Yeah, AIM Academy, those bastards. God, I hate ‘em. Boo, AIM Academy!” He yells out, to no one in particular. “You suck!”

“Oh my god, Tony, shut up,” Rhodey hisses, pulling him closer when more than one AIM fan glares at them. “Just watch the damn game.”

“Gotta support the team,” Tony grins. “Go Avengers! We’re number one!”

Natasha’s lips quirk up into something that could almost be half a smile. “We’re actually fourth in the district.”

Tony scoffs and waves her off. “Yeah, for now. AIM better _watch their fucking back, though!_ ”

“Why am I letting you sit with me?” Rhodey sighs.

“Alright, boys, shut up,” Natasha says. “Game’s about to start.”

Tony grins so hard his cheeks hurt, and revels in the shiver of anticipation when the opening whistle blows.

\- - - - -

The locker rooms are a mess of hollers and laughter when Tony slips in hours later. Coach Lensherr gives him an exasperated look but doesn’t stop him, and it’s only a few moments later that Tony finds Steve standing by his locker, freshly showered and stuffing the last of his things into a duffle bag.

“Hey, Mister MVP.” he says, returning the happy grin the blond gives him.

“Not even close. We’ve got a pretty great defense.”

“Yeah! Defense!” Somebody whoops from further in the room. Tony thinks it might be Sam. “ _Defense! Defense!_ ”

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” Steve salutes him playfully, and then wraps an arm around Tony’s shoulders to herd him back out into the brisk, evening air. “A little birdie told me you were trash talkin’ AIM Academy earlier.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “More like a little hawk, I bet. And no, I don’t regret it.”

“Never thought you would,” Steve chuckles. “It’s kinda sweet.”

“I’m trying to get into the school spirit a little more, okay?” Tony tries to pull away, but Steve’s hold slips down to his waist, and he gives up with a huff.

“It means a lot, that you were here.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Tony looks up at him.

Steve shakes his head. “Never crossed my mind.”

“I wasn’t gonna miss seeing you in that uniform,” Tony winks, and lets out a laugh when the blond flicks him in the arm.

“Tone down the charm there, mister– I’m hungry and you promised me cheeseburgers after the game.”

“I thought you’d wanna, y’know, spend time with the team.”

Steve smiles sweetly. “I’d rather spend time with you,” he says, and Tony tries and fails to hide the blush spreading over his face.

“It’s so unfair that you can just…” he grumbles, waving his hand around vaguely, “do that.”

But Steve just pulls him closer as they walk further into the night, and the warmth in Tony’s chest stays with him even longer.


	60. The one where... Tony and Steve enjoy some early morning lovin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #16: “Why are you blushing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Why are you blushing?”

“Because you won’t stop staring.”

Steve’s smile is boyish, and utterly charming. “Why should I? You’re gorgeous, baby,” he says, voice rough with sleep, and all Brooklyn.

It’s mesmerizing.

“Honey...” Tony mumbles, turning further into the pillow to hide his blush.

“What?”

“ _Stop._ ”

“Nope,” Steve shakes his head, and pulls Tony to his side, arms thick and warm as they wrap themselves around him. “Come on, lemme see that smile.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” Tony laughs, lifting his head to brush his lips against Steve’s shoulder. “‘M trying to sleep.”

“Then sleep,” Steve says, but the soft, soothing brush of his fingers along Tony’s hipbones just make him more awake.

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re...” Tony waves his hand around lazily. “Distracting.”

“Oh, really?” Steve grins. “Well, right back atcha, mister. Sometimes, I don’t know how I get anythin’ done around here.”

“I will kick you out of this bed, I swear,” Tony says, and goddammit, _why is he still blushing_? It’s not like he’s never been told he’s beautiful before.

Steve’s hand leaves warm caresses down his back, and his laughter is just as soft. “Alright, alright. Go back to sleep, beautiful--”

“ _Steve._ ”

“Can I hold you?”

Tony knows Steve can feel his giddy smile, but doesn’t even think about pulling away. “Always.”

\- - - - -

He wakes to the steady rise and fall of the warm chest beneath him.

The bedroom is utterly silent, and dimly lit from the early morning light peeking in through the curtains. Tony takes a couple of minutes to indulge in it-- it’s not surprising that they don’t get very many moments like this-- before slowly lifting his head to indulge in a far more gorgeous sight.

“Who’s the one starin’ now?”

Tony’s not the least bit surprised he’s been caught, so he just presses a kiss to Steve’s pec before resting his chin there. “I can’t help it,” he admits.

“Guess you’re done sleepin’,” Steve says, all sleepy smiles and sleep-tousled hair. There’s only the smallest sliver of blue peeking out from behind half-lidded eyes, and he’s without a doubt the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen.

“Yeah,” he says, breathless as he so often is when it comes to Steve.

“Can we have breakfast, then?” Steve asks, and Tony laughs into warm, muscled skin.

“Never takes you long, huh?”

“Like you’re not dying for a good cup of coffee.”

“Ohhhh,” Tony groans, moving off Steve’s chest to stretch his limbs languidly. “Now that you mention it, that sounds fucking perfect.”

“Thought so,” Steve chuckles, then climbs over Tony until he’s straddling him. “But first...”

Tony smirks. “First?”

“I owe my fella a good morning kiss,” Steve says, and leans down to press their mouths together before Tony can even think about complaining about morning breath.

Not that he even gets to thinking it, because his entire world is reduced to the slow, lazy kisses he’s getting and giving, and the reassuring weight of that familiar body above his.

“Mhmm, very good morning,” he gasps, when Steve pulls away with one final, wickedly sharp nip at Tony’s bottom lip.

“Back atcha, sweetheart,” the blond grins, and Tony’s heart suddenly feels a hundred sizes too big.

“I love you.”

Steve’s reply is immediate, and so earnest, it almost hurts. “I love you too. More than anything.”

“More than...breakfast?”

"Ask me after,” Steve smirks, and climbs off. “Up and at ‘em, Shellhead. I’m craving pancakes.”

“When are you not?” Tony mutters, but his smile is fond as he follows suit.

“I heard that!”


	61. The one where... Steve comes home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #17: “Stay with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Chapter 52!
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

The text comes in right in the middle of a meeting.

(Figures, the universe would find a way to screw Tony on the one thing he wants most.)

His phone pings loudly where it sits on the large glass table, and more than one eye turns his way. From his periphery, he sees Pepper sigh in exasperation, but it means nothing when he sees the words on his screen.

 **(2:08 p.m.) Nat:** _We’re back._

Tony’s heart skips a beat, then another, and he reaches over to tap Pepper’s hand.

_I need to go._

_No_ , Pepper mouths.

“But they’re here,” he hisses, fidgeting in his seat.

“Tony--”

“Please, I’ll make it up to you, Pep, I swear-- I’ll buy you an island, or a cat--”

Pepper gives him an unimpressed look even as she sighs again, waving him off, and Tony would’ve probably leaned in to kiss her if he hadn’t already been out the door and halfway to the elevator.

“Where is he, Jay?” He asks once he’s in, breathless as he paces the short space inside.

“ _In the common room, Sir._ ”

“God, can’t you make this go any faster, I’m–”

The lift stops with a jolt, and Tony doesn’t even wait for the doors to open fully before he’s squeezing past them and all but sprinting into the living room, and the quiet hum of conversation he’d been following stops all together when he walks inside.

From the corner of his eye, he spots Natasha’s red curls, and the glint of Barnes’ metal arm as he stands beside the glass windows, but everything falls away the moment he sees Steve.

“Hey, Shellhead.” His voice is rough and tired, but it’s still the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever heard.

“You’re late.”

Steve bows his head as he chuckles. “Sorry about that. Things got a little tricker than we were expectin’.”

“Bastards,” Barnes grumbles. “Made me miss the farmer’s market on Saturday.”

“Okay,” Natasha sighs, rising to her feet to herd everyone from the room. “Time for bed, _идиоты_.”

Clint glares at her. “It’s still bright out. And I want a hot dog.”

“Maybe when you’re a little less dead,” she replies, and gives Tony a wink as she leaves them alone.

There’s a silence he wants to both break and prolong, but he doesn’t waste time in walking up to the blond. "If I see a drop of blood anywhere on you," he says, "I'll kick your ass."

"Lucky for us, you don’t have to.”

Tony feels relief rush through him. "You’re okay?"

Steve nods. "I’m just... tired,” he says, running a hand over his freshly-showered hair as he stretches out along the couch. He closes his eyes in what can only be contentment, and Tony takes advantage of it, his own eyes flying over every inch of his Captain’s body. He doesn’t realize he’s timed the rise and fall of Steve’s chest with his own, until the blond peeks open an eye and turns it to him.

“Quit starin’ and get over here, then.”

“Don’t boss me, you’re off duty now,” Tony points out, but carefully climbs over Steve to lie down next to him anyway.

“I’m never off duty, Shellhead.”

“You are when you’re with me,” he mumbles against a warm, clean shoulder, fingers threading the edge of Steve’s SHIELD issued t-shirt.

“You’re still wearing your suit,” Steve mumbles, poking at Tony’s side even as his voice grows fainter. “Nat said y’were working?”

“Shareholders’ meeting day. Whoop-dee-doo.”

“Y’walked out in the middle of it, didn’t ya?”

“...No.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Pepper said it was okay,” Tony whines, and looks up in time to see Steve’s curious gaze.

“Really?”

“...Okay, maybe not. But she didn’t try to stop me, so, y’know, I figured I was good.”

“She’s going to make you go back in tomorrow. All day.”

Tony shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere for the next week. And neither are you, big guy.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” Steve mumbles. “I’ve missed ya too much.”

 _Never more than me_ , Tony wants to tell him. But he smothers the urge to wrap his arms around the blond, to kiss him until they’re both breathless, and reaches out to brush his fingers against Steve’s instead. “Back atcha, Cap.”

Steve brings him closer. “Stay with me?”

“Always.”


	62. The one where... Tony goes shopping for a present, and ends up with a gift of his own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #18: “This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“This is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Rhodey–”

“You can’t just give people dogs, Tony.”

“It’s _Pepper_.”

Rhodey rolls his eyes, but doesn’t pull away from the grip Tony has on his wrist as he drags them to the pet shop across the street. “What if she’s allergic?”

“To puppies? Not possible.”

“Tony–”

“Come on, gummy bear,” Tony says. “I thought of this one all by myself.”

“That is a first.”

“So be proud of me. Plus, she’s totally a dog person. I think. Either way, I’m going to get major brownie points.”

“If she hates it, we’re going to make you keep it,” Rhodey sighs.

“She won’t,” Tony grins, and pushes him into the store.

 _Happy Paws_ is the very definition of hole-in-the-wall, sandwiched between a shady-looking delicatessen and a cluttered little dollar store, but the first time Tony’d gone past its vibrantly decorated sign and windows filled with stacked up pet-pens, it’d caught his attention.

“What kind of puppy are you looking for, then?”

“A cute one? I dunno,” Tony shrugs. “Help me find the tiniest, fluffiest little fucker.”

“Hey, don’t call ‘em that,” Rhodey hisses, looking around furtively, even though the only animals currently around them are in fish tanks. They have yet to bump into an employee, but Tony can hear them faintly in the distance. “They’ll hear you and then they’ll… I don’t know, they’ll hate you.”

“Wow, calm down,” he laughs, and keeps walking. “Now, what kinda shit do dogs need… Oooooh, I like that– what is that, is that a bed? Get that bed, Jim Jam, I can’t reach.”

“Don’t call me Jim Jam, man,” Rhodey grumbles, but reaches up to get the bright pink bed at the top of a shelf. “It’s pink.”

“I like pink.”

“It’s not for you.”

“Pepper likes pink t– _holy shit_.” He vaguely registers Rhodey bumping into him softly from behind, barely remembers how to breathe when he turns the aisle and catches sight of the most beautiful human being he’s ever seen.

Big, Blond and Beautiful– Tony can tell the man’s easily a couple of inches taller than him, even sitting on the floor– looks up at the scuffle they make, and meets Tony’s gaze with bright, happy blue eyes.

“Hi there! Sorry, I should’ve been up at the front,” he says, but the wide, gorgeous smile on his face doesn’t look sorry at all. “Welcome to _Happy Paws_ , how may I help you?”

“Um,” Tony licks his lips, forcing the air back into his lungs. “Dog.”

“Yeah, we’ve got a number of ‘em,” the blond laughs, “including these little buds.” He gestures to the litter of golden retrievers yipping and running and doing their best to climb him as high as they can.

It’s the most breathtaking thing Tony’s ever seen.

“Dog– we, uh…” he stutters.

“He wants to adopt a dog for our friend,” Rhodey says behind him.

“That’s great!” The blond says, and even though it seemed impossible before, his smile grows even brighter. “Here, let me just–” he gently sets the puppies down, and in moments, he’s out of the pen and standing in front of them. “Steve Rogers, at your service.”

“I sure hope so,” Tony blurts, and hears Rhodey sigh behind him.

Blondie– no, _Steve_ – rubs the back of his neck shyly. There’s a delicious blush on his cheeks, and Tony feels his heart skip a beat. “Um…”

“Okay, so…” Rhodey steps up beside him. “I think I’m going to, uh, look for stuff?”

“We’ve got a new owner’s checklist at the counter,” Steve tells him. “Ask my friend Bucky, he’ll help you out.”

“Sounds good,” Rhodey nods, and leaves Tony with a wink and a thumbs up over Steve’s shoulder.

“So,” Steve smiles again. “Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Something small,” Tony replies. “It’s for my PA– well, she’s not my PA. Not anymore. Turns out I make a shit CEO. Anyway, she seems like a… little dog person.”

“We’ve got a couple of those around here. And we’ve also got training classes, if you decide on a puppy.”

“Whichever gets me around here more often, handsome.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” Steve replies, even as his blush grows, and Tony wants nothing more than to taste that smile.

“Who are these babies, then?” he says instead, pointing to the puppies scrambling around the edge of the pen.

"Well, these three,” Steve points to the green, red, and blue collared ones. “These are John, Paul, and George.”

“Lennon, McCartney and Harrison?”

Steve shakes his head. “Adams, Revere and Washington.”

Tony lets out a laugh that comes easier than anything has in a long time. “Oh my god,” he breathes. “ _You didn’t._ ”

"I like history,” Steve says bashfully. “And they seemed to warm up to the names pretty quick.”

“What about the rest?”

“My friends wouldn’t let me name ‘em.”

“I don’t blame them, gorgeous.” Tony grins. 

“Hey!” Steve gives him a playful glare. “I’m helpin’ _you_ here, mister…”

Tony holds out his hand. “Stark. Tony Stark,” he says, and smiles at the warm, firm handshake he receives in turn.

“Nice to meet you, Tony.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, believe me.”

Steve just grins, and leans over the little fence to pick up a tiny white ball of fluff. "What about Annie, here?”

“ _Oh_ ,” Tony sighs, transfixed by the little puppy’s wriggles and happy pants. “She’s… perfect.”

Steve beams. “Really? Wanna hold her?”

“Yeah, okay,” Tony nods, and tries not to swoon when the blond steps right into his personal space to settle the puppy into his arms. Annie barks at Steve once, and then turns to Tony and licks his chin. “Hey there, princess.”

“She likes you.”

“Hope she’s not the only one.”

Steve looks up at him from beneath long lashes. “You always this bold, Mr. Stark?”

“No,” Tony finds himself admitting. It’s surprising how easy it is. “Must be you.”

“ _Are you guys finished flirting back there?_ ”

“Zip it, Bucky!” Steve yells.

“Don’t interrupt, 'Bucky’!” Tony joins in. “I’m trying to get your buddy’s number.”

“I thought you were here to buy a dog,” Steve says.

“Must be my lucky day,” Tony replies. 

A playful gleam enters Steve’s eyes. “I haven’t given you my number yet.”

“What do I have to do to get it?”

“Ask me.”

Tony’s smile turns giddy. “Can I get your number, gorgeous?”

"Okay,” Steve nods, lips quirked softly.

“Is it done?” A scruffy looking man peeks in from the next aisle, gray eyes bright with amusement.

“You Bucky?”

Bucky nods. “You’re Tony Stark.”

“In the flesh,” Tony grins.

“Did he give you his number?”

Steve sighs. “Bucky–”

“‘Cause I’ll do it myself if he hasn’t.”

Steve’s blush comes back with a vengeance. “Oh my god– get outta here, you punk!” He waves the man away.

Tony smirks. “I think we’ve got it covered, bud.”

Bucky disappears without another word, and then, seconds later–

“ _That’s my boy_!” Rhodey whoops.

Steve’s smile is pure sunshine, and with Annie still squirming in his arms, Tony feels warmer than he has in a long, long time.


	63. The one where... Tony gets a well-earned break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #19: “Kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Kill me.”

“No.”

“I will pay you to kill me.”

Pepper scoffs. “You can’t afford it.”

“Um, okay, that’s a little insulting because seriously, what _can’t_ I afford?” Tony scoffs. “But it’s also kinda sweet. Love you, Pepper-pot.”

“I love you too, Tony,” Pepper smiles.

“ _Then why won’t you kill me?_ ” he whines, the words muffled by the pile of papers he’s buried his face in.

“If you get any drool on those forms, I will make you sign a whole new batch all over again.”

Tony sits up so fast, he almost gets vertigo. “...Can I go to the restroom?”

“Sure.”

“Really?”

Pepper nods. “After you finish that pile.”

“Fuck,” Tony huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans back into his chair. “Can I just do this at home?”

“No, because you won’t, and you know it. You’ll end up distracted by your tech, or your suit, or Steve, and then I’ll come around to pick the papers up and you won’t even remember where they are.”

“I hate that you know me so well.”

“If you say so.”

“Seriously, Pep--”

Pepper puts her pen down. “Tony Stark,” she says, and even though her voice is soft, it’s all business. “Are you seriously complaining about signing papers for _your_ company?”

“I could get carpal tunnel.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive,” she replies. “Now keep signing.”

“I don’t--“ Tony starts, but a sudden bout of laughter from outside Pepper’s office makes him stop, and his heart skips a beat when he registers whose it is.

Clearly Pepper does too, because she lets out a fond sigh and rolls her eyes. “I guess there’s no use anymore, is there?”

Tony makes an excited little noise when he hears the familiar voice getting closer, and almost jumps from his seat when the door opens and Pepper’s secretary comes in.

“Captain Rogers here, Ms. Potts,” she says, a faint blush covering her cheeks, and her eyes follow Steve when he walks past her and into the office. 

“ _Steeeeeeeve!_ ” Tony makes grabby hands, and Pepper chuckles as she thanks her secretary.

“I could hear you whinin’ from out there, y’know,” Steve says.

“Really? ‘Cause it sure sounded like you were busy chatting up a storm with Daisy.”

Steve grins. “Jealous?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tony scoffs, but he can feel the smile on his own face. “So what’s up, buttercup?“

“I thought you could use a lunch break,” Steve says. “Unless you’re too busy. Ms. Potts, I brought some lunch for you, too-- Italian, if that’s okay with you.”

“I fucking love you, oh my god,” Tony holds out his arms, gasping at the first whiff of Carbonara.

“Love you too, Shellhead.”

“I was talking to my pasta,” Tony smirks. “But I guess you’re okay too, sunshine.”

Steve rolls his eyes, and passes the second plate in the bag to Pepper. “Tony told me you liked Eggplant parm.”

“Very sweet of you, thank you,” Pepper smiles, and then stands up. “I think I’ll eat this outside, actually.”

“Oh no,” Steve frowns. “No, you don’t have to-- I didn’t want to interrupt, I just--”

“It’s fine, Captain,” Pepper says. “I need to check over some things with my secretary, and I promised to talk to the Head of Marketing, so I’ll just eat on my way.”

“That’s-- are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Enjoy your lunch, boys,” she says, and leaves with a wink at Tony behind Steve’s back.

“Where’s yours?” Tony asks, settling back into his chair with aplomb.

“I had lunch with Sam and Bucky, but I knew you’d forget to,” Steve says, sitting down in Pepper’s chair. “You always do.”

“Not always,” Tony grumbles, but the effect is ruined when he moans around a mouthful of pasta and bacon. “Jesus Christ, this is from Marcello’s down on third, isn’t it?”

Steve smiles. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Well, ain’t you a sweetheart,” Tony purrs, and shovels more food into his mouth.

“Slow down, I don’t want you to choke.”

“That’s what he said.”

Steve rolls his eyes even as he chuckles, cheeks turning a delicious shade of pink. “Alright, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yes sir,” Tony winks. “Did you miss me?”

“You know I did,” Steve says. “Saturday brunch just wasn’t the same without my best fella.”

Tony’s heart make a pathetically happy little jump. “No need to flatter me, big guy. I’m already yours.” 

“I never get tired of hearin’ that, y’know,” Steve says softly, as earnest as he always seems to be when it comes to Tony.

“I sure hope not, Captain,” Tony puts his plate down, and leans over the desk to kiss Steve’s cheek. “‘Cause I’m kinda getting used to having you around.”

“So romantic,” Steve deadpans, but when he turns his head to press his lips together, both of them are smiling.

“Love you too.”


	64. The one where... the Avengers have a family game night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #20: “I wish I could hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I wish I could hate you.”

“Would it make you feel better?”

“You’re damn fucking right it would,” Tony glares, but Steve just smiles, and goes back to counting the bills in his hand.

“Hate me, then, but you still owe me twelve hundred bucks.”

“I don’t have twelve hundred bucks, you little shit!”

“Guess you’re gonna have to sell some of them properties you’ve got,” Steve points to the corner of the board Tony owns. “So what’ll it be? Pennsylvania Avenue, maybe?”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tony sneers. “Well, you’re gonna have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

Steve’s grin is all teeth as he turns to the banker. “Ma’am?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, don’t be a kiss-ass.”

“Can I take his railroads?”

Natasha’s lips are quirked up in one of her irritatingly gorgeous little smirks. “Gotta pay up, Stark.”

From where he’s sitting beside Tony, Rhodey lets out a huff. “Show of hands, who honestly saw this coming?”

Even Barnes and Wilson, caught up in a card game across the room, raise their hands.

“Petition to fucking ban Monopoly from future family game nights,” Clint calls out around a mouthful of popcorn. “I’m tired of seeing Cap wipe the floor with everyone.”

“Seconded,” Bruce says.

“Fine with me,” Steve nods, “but right now, I want my twelve hundred.”

“How ‘bout I pay you in kisses, baby?” Tony decides to purr, and then shivers when Steve’s eyes darken even as he blushes.

“I think I’m gonna need a lot more than kisses.”

“Oh fucking Christ,” Barnes groans, slamming his cards down. "Can the two of ya losers even go a whole hour before acting like a couple of horndogs?”

“Jealous, Barnes?”

“Fuck you, Stark.”

“Only Cap gets to do that now,” Tony winks, and laughs at the echo of groans that ripples around the room.

“Aw, that’s just–”

“Too much information, Tones.”

“It’s not like it’s a secret,” Steve says.

Clint chokes on a kernel, and Sam almost falls off his chair as he doubles over.

“Oh my god, I love you,” Tony breathes, and leans over the table to press their lips together.

“Thought you hated me,” Steve replies softly.

“Wouldn’t even if I could.”

“Love you too.”

\- - - - -

“It’s not fair, y’know.”

"Mhmm?”

“How’d you get so good at Monopoly?” Tony mumbles, lips brushing Steve’s shoulder with every word. The sound of their team’s laughter is a warm bubble around them as they lie across the main couch in each other’s arms.

“Back when I was a kid, we had a neighbor a couple of doors down– Mr. Hoffman, I remember– and one Christmas, he bought a board for the kids in the building,” Steve says, and Tony can tell he’s smiling just by the wistfulness in his voice. “Most of ‘em always liked playin’ outdoors better, though, but I’d spend my afternoons sitting around his table, with him and Mrs. Carmichael from 5C. Sometimes Father O’Malley from the Parish would pop in too, and on my Ma’s day off she’d be sittin’ there next to me, and we… God, we used to have such a riot in there. Bucky dropped by once to see what all the fuss was about, and he didn’t last an hour before he was bankrupt. Hey, Buck!”

Barnes looks away from the Twister spinner in his hand. “What.”

“Remember game nights at ol’ Hoffman’s place?”

Blue eyes narrow at the both of them. “Stop right there.”

“Mrs. Carmichael’s eight year-old granddaughter–”

“Stevie–”

“–wouldn’t stop tellin’ the whole building how she beat James Buchanan Barnes at Monopoly.”

Barnes groans. “I hate you...”

Steve’s laughter echoes beneath Tony’s hand, happy and warm and everything Tony feels when it comes to Steve. “So definitely no more Monopoly on game nights, okay?” he says.

“I’m good.”

“Now we just need to find something you’re not good that, if that’s even possible.”

“I think there was a compliment in there somewhere?”

Tony shakes his head. “No, that’s just you being cocky.”

“I’ll show you cocky,” Steve growls, and a second later, flips them over until he has Tony beneath him.

“Bring it, big guy.”

Steve smirks. “Whaddaya say we cut this evenin’ short and have our own game night upstairs?”

“Oh god, that was so bad,” Tony says, breathless from laughter and the deliciously wicked gleam in those baby blues above him. “Jesus, that’s– seriously, babe, don’t ever say that again.”

“Maybe you should shut me up, then.”

“Maybe you should get off me.”

“But I like it here,” Steve whispers, voice suddenly rough as he gently rocks his hips into Tony’s.

“Oh god,” he grunts, desire rushing through him like lightning. “Steve, hon, let’s–”

“Get outta here? Yeah, okay,” Steve gasps, and all but flings himself off the couch, holding out his hand to Tony. “Night, everyone!”

“You guys make me sick,” is the last thing Tony hears someone yell before the elevator doors open and he’s pressed up against one of the tiny walls. 

“Hi there,” he says softly, looking up to meet soft baby blue eyes. 

“Hiya back,” Steve grins. “Didja have fun tonight?”

“I always do,” Tony replies honestly. “You’re hot when you get all competitive.”

Steve rolls his eyes even as he blushes. “I can’t help it.”

“Hey, you won’t hear me complainin’. It’s an honor to get my ass handed to me by you, Captain.”

“Not the only plan I have for your ass tonight, y’know,” Steve whispers.

Tony throws his head back and laughs. “Oh my god, I’m just gonna shut you up now, okay?” he asks, leaning in until his lips brush Steve’s.

“Sounds perfect.”


	65. The one where... Pepper’s definitely missing something. Or is she?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #21: “I think we need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

It starts when her secretary knocks on her door instead of barging right in like she always does.

“Yes?” Pepper calls out, and frowns when Daisy enters tentatively, a stack of papers pressed to her chest. “What… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Miss Potts,” Daisy shakes her head, but she’s hesitant like she never is, and it’s only when she holds out the pile in her arms to Pepper that Pepper realizes it’s not papers at all. 

They’re magazines.

“I just… Carey from Legal just sent these over, and he told me to tell you to, well… that the department honchos would like you to speak with the boss.”

Pepper looks down at the cover, and barely manages to keep from rolling her eyes. “Thank you, Daisy. I’m heading out for lunch,” she says, even though both of them know she’s not, “but can you go over right now, please, and tell them-- actually, remind them that I’m the CEO, and next time they want to tell me something, they should do it themselves instead of hiding behind their secretaries’ shoulders, no matter how broad and pretty they are?”

Daisy’s back to being all smiles. “With pleasure, Miss Potts.“

As soon as she’s alone again, Pepper stuff the magazines in her bag, grabs her coat, and leaves.

\- - - - -

"I think we need to talk.”

There’s a loud clang from underneath the car Tony’s buried in, and she hears him let out a muffle curse a second later.

“Wh– Pep?”

“You didn’t hear me come in, did you?”

“What?”

“I said– never mind, just get out here, please?”

“I can’t– _shit, no, damn it_ – I can’t hear you, Pepper pot.”

She nudges his leg with the pointed tip of her shoe. “JARVIS?” she sighs.

“ _My pleasure, ma'am_ ,” the AI responds, and then– “ _Sir, Ms. Potts is requesting your attention._ ”

“Oh,” Tony’s head pops up from underneath, a grin plastered firmly on his greasy face. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Pepper rolls her eyes fondly. “I did.”

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“We need to talk about these,” she pulls out the magazines and splays them out on the hood of car. Half a dozen shots of Tony and Steve walking around the city look back at them-- each of them wearing shirts or hoodies or baseball caps emblazoned with each other’s symbols in nearly all of them-- with a different variation of the same question as a caption:

_Are Iron Man and Captain America dating?_

“Is that--"

"Yes--" Pepper starts, but Tony interrupts her.

"I hadn't seen this one yet-- hey, Jay, snap a shot of this one and send it to Steve."

"Tony."

"Huh?" Tony looks up to her, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"We need to talk."

"About... this?"

"Yes, Tony."

"Why?"

"Because this is the kind of thing you need to tell me."

Tony frowns. "Why would I tell you I'm going to lunch with Cap?"

"Not that," Pepper sighs. “ _This_ ,” she points to the caption.

"Oh, that," Tony shrugs, "that's not true."

"Tony--"

"Yeah?"

"They’re everywhere."

"Okay, I get that. Obviously,” he waves a hand in the directions of the magazines. “But Pep, you know... you know how this works.”

“So you’re...” Pepper crosses her arms. “Tony, if there’s something going on, I need you to tell me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed this isn’t a new thing, and it doesn’t seem to be going away. SI needs to be prepared.”

“For what?” Both of them turn to the workshop entrance at the new voice, and moments later, Steve is standing beside them with a friendly smile.

“Look!” Tony beams, and picks up a magazine to push it at Steve’s chest.

“What’s--” Steve begins, only to blush and stammer when he pulls it away to get a better look. “Oh. Oh, geez,” he mumbles, and meets Pepper’s eyes hesitantly. “I’m awfully sorry, Ms. Potts--”

“No you’re not. And neither am I,” Tony scoffs, grinning when both she and Steve glare at him. “What?”

“Look,” she says, “the Board is starting to ask questions, Tony. I’m not telling you to stop-- though that wouldn’t be a bad idea, either--”

“Too bad--”

“But just... just try to take it easy, okay?”

“We will, Ms. Potts. I promise,” Steve nods, a friendly, earnest smile on his handsome face. Pepper almost swoons. “The last thing I wanna do is make more trouble for ya.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” she replies. “And just between us... I think it’s cute.”

“It was his idea,” Tony jerks his thumb at Steve even as he pouts at being told what to do.

“Didn’t hear you complainin’.”

“Why would I?”

“Gosh, you’re sweet,” Steve chuckles, and leans in to kiss Tony’s cheek. “Y’know I love wearing 'em, right?”

“Really?” Tony mumbles, but Pepper can see him blushing softly as he bows his head.

Steve nods, and pulls him in by the shoulder. “I may be Captain America, but Steve Rogers is definitely an Iron Man kind of fella.”

“Yeah, well who wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t care if the whole world knows it, either.”

The smile on Tony’s face when he looks up at Steve is one Pepper doesn’t think she’s ever seen. “Oooh, I love when you go all rebel, baby.”

“Zip it, Shellhead,” Steve laughs, and when he leans in to kiss Tony again, this time on his temple, Pepper’s grin feels easy as breathing.


	66. The one where... Steve and Tony get into a little bit of a fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #22: “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, so that’s, what, the first one in two days?”

“Fuck you, Barton,” Tony mutters, burrowing further into the couch with a huff.

“No thanks,” Clint smirks, but turns serious a second later. “God, just go talk to him, will you?”

“He doesn’t wanna see me.”

Clint groans, and smacks Sam on the arm. “You’re so fucking blind, Jesus Christ, dude! Wilson, tell him he’s blind.”

Sam sighs. “You’re blind.”

“I’m–”

“I will eat my own damn arrows if Cap’s not sulking down in his room too,” Clint says. “Go check. You guys are pathetic and y’know what? I’m outta here– keep moping if you want, I’m done.”

Tony doesn’t say a word as Clint leaves the room, muttering as he goes, but looks up when Sam pats his shoulder as he follows.

“Nobody likes it when you guys fight,” Sam says softly. “And Steve’s always been easier to rile up when it comes to you.”

“I don’t know why.” The words are out before Tony can stop them.

“You’re probably the only one,” Sam chuckles. “So maybe you should go ask him.”

\- - - - -

Steve’s floor is silent when Tony steps off the elevator, and he feels unusually hesitant to disturb it. But when he finds his Captain sitting alone on the large sofa in the main room, he takes a breath to prepare himself.

“I was hoping Barton’d have to eat his arrows after all.”

Steve’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes in a breath and releases it. “That sounds… painful.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like he doesn’t have it coming.”

“How… how are you?”

“You kidding me?” Tony laughs, a thin and humorless little thing. “I haven’t seen you since–” he swallows, “since yesterday. How do you think I’ve been?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve sighs. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Jesus, I didn’t say it to make you feel bad,” Tony groans. “I’m not angry at you, Steve.”

“Neither am I, you know that, right?”

Tony doesn’t nod. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

Steve looks at him over his shoulder. “Are you?” he says, and the weariness in his voice is the last straw.

“Okay, no, I’m not,” Tony says loudly, “because it’s the truth, and I don’t fucking know why you’d bother–”

“You cannot be serious,” Steve jumps up, eyes suddenly blazing with fury. “Tell me you don’t mean that.”

“Steve–”

“You do, don’t you?” And oh, now there are tears in those eyes he loves so much. “You think– you really can’t imagine why I’d have a problem with someone saying all those horrible things about you?”

“It’s not the first time, alright?” Tony answers. “And it won’t be the last, either.”

“That doesn’t make it okay! And if you think I would _ever_ ,” Steve voice breaks, “just stand there and let anyone talk to you that way–”

“I don’t think that,” Tony shakes his head, voice coming out smaller than he’d like.

“Sure seems like you do, sometimes. You have no idea how much I hate that.”

“I’m used to it, Steve. You can’t make everyone like you, y’know.”

Steve squares his shoulders. “But they can damn well respect you.”

“Can’t force ‘em to do that either, Cap,” Tony shakes his head.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna keep trying,” Steve says, and grabs a corner of the blanket Tony’s wearing to pull him in. “And next time I hear someone call you a…” he falters, like the simple act of saying them out loud is a crime, “a killer, or a– a warmonger, or any of that absolute _shit_ , I won’t let you stop me from doin’ a lot more than tellin’ ‘em off. You’re absolutely worth it.”

“You’ll forgive me if I still have trouble believing that, won’t you?” Tony whispers, resting his head on Steve’s warm shoulder.

“I’ll do it enough for the both of us, if I have to. You’re my best friend, you idiot.”

“Still, you don’t have to antagonize them.”

Steve pulls back until he can touch his forehead to Tony’s. “Wouldn’t be the least I’d ever do for you, Tony Stark.”

Tony flutters his lashes dramatically. “My hero,” he coos, chuckling when Steve rolls his eyes.

“Takes one to know one, y’know.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. And Captain America’s always right, so don’t even fight me, mister.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fighting,” Tony says. “For now at least…”

“‘Til the next time, right?”

Tony smirks. “Well yeah, I wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

“I could never be bored with you, Shellhead,” Steve says around a laugh, and pulls Tony closer.


	67. The one where... Steve has a little surprise for Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #23: “This is unbelievable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“This is unbelievable.”

“Tony–”

“I have to be dreaming. I’m dreaming, yeah, pinch me.”

“You’re not dreaming.”

“No, yeah, see, I have to be dreaming,” Tony shakes his head. “Because there is no way _that_ –” he points to the dark, gleaming motorcycle five feet in front of him “–is real. There’s no way... Steve. _What the fuck?_ ”

Steve grins. “It was my grandpa’s. I’ve been workin’ on it for months down at Buck’s garage. Now, you comin’ or what?”

Tony can’t help the incredulous laugh that leaves his lips. “Uh, no. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Steve’s lips quirk up into a tiny smirk, and with the aviators covering his eyes, as well as the familiar leather jacket framing his broad shoulders as he revs the motor of the veritable monster between his legs, he looks like something out of Tony’s wet dreams. “Scared, Stark?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he replies, when the air finally comes back into his lungs. 

A blond eyebrow peeks out from behind those shades. “How’re ya gonna get to school, then?”

“Honey,” Tony scoffs, and tells himself not to feel so giddy at the way Steve’s cheeks flush at the name. “If you think I don’t have a dozen other ways to get there–”

“I know you do,” Steve says. “Just didn’t take you for a coward.“ By now his smile is all teeth, and Tony’s helpless against the grin he gives him in return.

Steve’s always known how to push his buttons best.

“Gonna give me your helmet, then?” he finally says, sauntering up to the bike with more aplomb than he feels.

“Why? God knows your head’s hard enough on it’s own,” Steve laughs, but unclips his helmet and offers it to him all the same. “Hop on.”

Tony can’t help but hesitate, though. “Steve…”

The blond’s smile softens. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Scout’s honor.”

“You can’t use that all the time, y’know.”

“Sure I can,” Steve says. “Now get on, time’s tickin’.”

“If we die, I’m going to kill you.”

“Nobody’s dyin’ today.”

“Famous last words,” Tony mutters, but doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms tightly around Steve’s waist as he finally climbs on behind. “This is a nightmare, Jesus fucking Christ, Steve.”

But Steve just grins at him over his shoulder, and drives off with a whoop.

\- - - - -

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

Tony barely keeps from stumbling as he gets off the bike with a swing of his leg. “You’re a menace,” he growls, heart thundering in his chest. “There was no way that was legal.”

“Under the speed limit the whole time, actually,” Steve replies. 

“Nope. No way. That’s bullshit, Rogers–”

“You look adorable with helmet hair, y’know.”

“I hate you so much,” Tony huffs, even as he feels his cheeks grow warm, but before he can reach up to tousle his hair, Steve grabs his wrist and pulls him in.

“Let me?” he asks, and Tony’s helpless to deny him, so he stands there while Steve runs large, familiar fingers through his hair, and tries not to notice how easy it’d be to just reach up and kiss the smile off Steve’s lips.

“Never knew you had a death wish,” he says instead.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m always careful, Tony. And you know you liked it, so stop pretending.”

“Nope, no like. Zero like,” Tony shakes his head, and feels his traitorous heart skip a beat when he feels Steve’s laughter brushes across his face. With Steve sitting on the edge of the seat, his height is closer to Tony’s than usual; it just makes it all the more harder to ignore the crooked quirk of his lips, the bright, blue eyes dancing with mirth, or the faint Irish freckles on his cheeks and nose.

“Can’t fool me, mister,” Steve says softly, and when he pulls his hand away, Tony’s pretty sure he imagines the way it lingers just a little bit as a finger traces his jawline. “I see right through ya.”

Tony looks down to hide his smile. “Just don’t go blabbing about it, okay?”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It better be.”

“Guess I should buy another helmet then, huh?”

“Probably a good idea,” Tony nods. “Wouldn’t want that pretty little head to get hurt.”

Steve’s blush is perfection. He still hasn’t let go of Tony’s wrist, and the whisper soft touch of his thumb on Tony’s pulse is almost maddening. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Tony says honestly.

“Um, thanks–”

“So I’m thinking hot rod red. With a touch of gold.”

“Sure.”

“Really?” Tony grins.

Steve nods. “Yep. And while we’re at it, we can get you a bike to go with it, mister, ‘cause no helmet of mine’s gonna look like that.”

“You’re no fun, Rogers,” Tony groans. “I have no idea why we’re still friends.”

“‘s because you’re too short to reach all those really high shelves everywhere,” Steve replies, and then yelps out a laugh when Tony smacks him on his shoulder.

“Ass.”

“Love you too, Tony.”

“Doesn’t seem like it, the way you almost killed us on the way here.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re so dramatic sometimes, I swear.”

“Well excuse me for worrying about my ass,” Tony scoffs. “And yours, for that matter.”

“Seems fair, for all the times I’ve been worried sick about yours.”

“Oh come on, It was _one time_ –”

“You blew up the science lab, genius.”

“It wasn’t just me!”

Steve grinds his jaw. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Tough,” Tony grins, and leans over to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek before he can talk himself out of it. “I’ve gotten better, though, right?”

“Well, my Ma hasn’t had to patch you up lately, so I’d say yes.”

“As long as you keep it that way, then.”

Steve finally pushes himself off the bike, and lets go of Tony’s wrist to wrap his arm around Tony’s shoulders. “I’ll take care of ya,” he says, mouth brushing Tony’s temple as they make their way to the school’s entrance. “Promise.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Tony replies.

“But I’m still not getting that hot rod red helmet.”

“Boo, you whore.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Fine. I’ll settle for a sleek gray?”

“…Deal.”

“Aw, you do love me!”

“God knows why…” Steve mumbles, but when they step through the main doors, both of them are smiling.


	68. The one where... Steve might just be TOO hot for his own good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #24: “Stop acting like a child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part of the Doctor!Tony AU (aka chapters 49 and 56). :)
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“Stop acting like a child.”

“I’m not--”

“I’m serious. Stop it.”

“But--”

“Steve Rogers,” Tony sighs. “If you don’t stop squirming, I swear to god, I will fucking take back that date I promised you.”

Steve’s mouth snaps shut with a click of his teeth as he stills his limbs--the ones not being treated for second degree burns, of course.

“Now, just sit there, look pretty, and let me take care of you,” Tony continues, trying to push down the slightly irrational flare of panic from climbing up his throat at the sight of the ugly burn on the leg propped up in front of him. He has a job to do, damn it, and seeing that it’s _Steve_ , he’s all the more determined to do it well. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says softly, and almost steals the breath from Tony’s lungs when he reaches out to touch his arm. Even through the lab coat and the button up he’s wearing, Tony can still feel the warmth of his skin like a soothing brand.

“Don’t apologize. It’s your job. I get it.”

“I don’t wanna make you worry,” Steve replies. “I tried tellin’ the guys to try to get someone else--”

“Oh fuck no,” Tony almost growls. “Don’t pull that shit on me, Rogers. Something like this happens again, I better find out asap. Am I fucking clear?”

“Yes sir,” Steve nods, eyes twinkling with admiration, and then-- “You’re gorgeous when you’re like this.”

From the corner they’re huddled in, Clint, Barnes, and Wilson let out matching groans, and by the time Tony catches Nurse Darcy trying and failing to hide her smile, he can feel the heat flooding his own cheeks.

“Don’t try to charm your way out of this, big guy.”

“I know I can’t, I just... It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s been two days,” Tony says.

“That’s two days too long.”

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Barnes sighs, the words somewhat muffled as he drags his hands over his face. “I shoulda known better, can I just-- I’m just gonna go, before I get a cavity from all this sap.”

“Bye, Buck!” Steve calls out, an unrepentant grin on his gorgeous face, and Tony almost forgets himself and leans in to kiss it right off. “Tell Fury I’m in good hands!”

“No fucking shame,” Barnes mutters as he leaves, and Clint and Sam are only a step behind, with the latter shooting Steve a wink before they’re out of sight.

Tony has to shoot Darcy a knowing look before she leaves with a flip of dark curls and a wave. “So,” he finally says. “Is this something I should expect more of from you, Cap?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Because if you wanted to see me again, all you had to do was call.”

Steve rolls his eyes even as he grins. “I get a little impatient sometimes.”

Tony can’t help but return the smile. “So you decide burning your leg’s the way to go.”

“It’s feelin’ better already.”

“You better not be getting cold feet about this,” he teases, but Steve’s shaking his head before Tony’s even finished speaking.

“Countin’ the hours, honestly.”

“Really?” Tony says, but his voice is so breathless, it’s almost pathetic.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, and how he can look so at ease with a burn on his leg, Tony has no idea. “But I think this is kinda throwin’ a wrench in our plans.”

Tony tries to push down the disappointment. “No, yeah, I get it, we can reschedule--”

“Like hell we will,” Steve says, eyes gleaming in determination. “I’m not waitin’ longer than I have to.”

“Kind of hard to go out when you’re hobbling, though.”

“So we won’t. You can come over to my place.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat. “What?”

“I can, um, I can cook for you? I’ve been told I make a mean Spaghetti sauce, so maybe if you want... It probably won’t be as nice a time as I was hopin’ to give ya,” Steve looks down, sounding more hesitant than he has in all the time they’ve known each other. “But I’d love to do it, all the same.”

Tony can only nod. “Okay, yeah, that-- that sounds, uh. Perfect.”

“Good. And I’ll make it worth your while.” Steve’s grin is soft and happy, and full of promise. 

“You’d better,” Tony says “But until then,” he stands up, putting the last touches on Steve’s bandage. “Try to take it easy. Again. As pretty as your face is, I’d prefer not to find you in one of these rooms any time soon.”

“Not like I do it on purpose,” Steve mutters through his smile.

“But twice in one week, Rogers? Makes a guy wonder...” Tony smirks, and then feels his body warm all over when the blond’s eyes fall down to his lips.

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m kinda dyin’ to kiss ya,” Steve says, voice rough and low.

Tony shivers. “What are you waiting for, then?”

“May I?”

“ _You better_ ,” Tony growls, and then Steve’s smirk is the last thing he registers before he’s dragged into warm arms and kissed within an inch of his life.

He doesn’t know how they stand there-- doesn’t know anything other than the slow, lazy drag of Steve’s lips against his-- but eventually, he has to pull back to find his breath. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, and then moans when Steve’s mouth follows after him. “Oh f-- _mhhhmm_.”

He lets the kisses begin again-- the fast, loud rush of blood in his ears a contrast to the soft, wonderfully tender feel of Steve’s lips on his own-- until they break away with a sigh.

“That...” Tony breathes, “that was--”

“ _Perfect_ ,” Steve says, grinning like he’s having the time in his life, and Tony doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.

“God, you’re kinda killing me with... all of you, right now,” he waves his hand around, letting out one last, tiny groan when Steve tightens his hold around Tony’s waist and pulls him further in between his legs.

“Wouldn’t want that,” Steve says, baby blues running over every inch of Tony’s face with so much awe, it’s almost unbearable. “I’m kinda lookin’ forward to that date.”

“You’re not the only one,” Tony replies, and leans in again to taste Steve’s grin all over again.


	69. The one where... Steve and Tony enjoy a lovely tea party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #25: “It’s not what it looks like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, references here for Starbucks drink sizes, cuz they’re stupid and don’t make sense but that’s the way it is, and I used ‘em here-- their small is ‘tall’, medium is ‘grande’, and large is ‘venti’.
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“It’s not what it looks like…”

Steve leans against the door of his daughter’s room. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“Okay, yeah,” Tony shrugs, and smiles back up at him from his perch on one of their baby girl’s kiddie-sized chairs. He barely fits on the seat, and his knees are drawn up to his chest-- a tablet resting on his knees-- but he doesn’t look like he has any intention of moving. “She convinced me, no surprise. It’s...” he wiggles. “It’s not that bad.”

“Papa!”

Steve steps further into the room. “Hi, babydoll,” he grins, and pepper’s kisses all over their daughter’s face when he lifts her into his arms. “Having tea time with Daddy?”

“Uh huh,” she says, golden curls bouncing when she nods. “Wan’ some, Papa?”

“Sure do, princess,” he replies, but stops short of joining Tony on a chair. “I don’t think Papa can fit on one of these, though.”

“I’m sure you can,” Tony smirks. “I just don’t think it’ll hold you. Papa’s a venti Cap, ain’t he, baby?” he asks their daughter. “And all your chairs are a tall.”

“Only f’short people!” The girl giggles, wriggling down from Steve’s hold to move a chair with a Captain America plushie to the side. “Y’can sit on th’floor, Papa.”

“So kind of you, ma’am.”

“Hey, whoa, you callin’ me short, baby girl?” Tony pouts.

“She doesn’t need to,” Steve chuckles, and leans over to brush a slow, lazy kiss to his husband’s lips. “But you’re perfect, anyhow.”

“Mhmm, back atcha, stud,” Tony breathes, eyes wide and hazy as they both pull away.

“Daddy!”

“Yes, tater tot?” 

“Wan’ more tea?”

“Sure thing, sunshine,” Tony nods.

“Papa, yours!” Their daughter holds out a tiny tea cup, and Steve takes it with a happy ‘thank you’ before taking a sip.

“Is this... sweet tea?”

“Well she can’t have actual tea, babe. Tea’s disgusting.”

“Tea’s _yuck_!”

“Better than coffee,” Steve grins, just to cherish the scathing glare Tony sends him over the rim of his own cup.

“Should we forgive Papa for that, pumpkin? That was a mean thing to say about Daddy’s lifeblood.” 

Their girl looks thoughtful for a few moments as she taps her little fingers against her chin, and it’s such a Tony thing to do, Steve can’t help but laugh into his tea cup. Finally, she looks back up at the two of them and nods. “I f’give you, Papa.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” he smiles magnanimously. “Now, what’s Daddy doing with his tablet during tea time, huh?”

Tony shrugs. “Multitasking. I’m a working man-- tell him I’m a working man, bella.”

“He’s uh workin’ man, Papa,” their daughter nods, and then holds out a small tray. “Muff’ns! Eat muff’ns, Papa!”

Steve feels like a veritable giant as he takes a mini muffin, holding it easily with his thumb and forefinger. “Blueberry, my favorite.”

He gets two identical noises of disgust in return. “Nothin’ wrong with blueberry.”

“B’nana!”

“Not much better,” Tony grimaces. “But I still love you, princess.”

“Love y’too, Daddy,” Bella replies, and Steve grins through a mouthful of muffin.

“So how was Papa’s day?” Tony asks, casually shoving an entire chocolate muffin into his mouth. Their daughter takes one look at him and does the same with her own banana nut muffin, cheeks bulging adorably like a hamster.

“Spent the whole mornin’ training new agents,” Steve replies.

“Ooooh, new SHIELD lackeys,” Tony smirks. “Sounds exciting, doesn’t it, small fry?”

“Lackeys!”

Steve pokes his daughter’s side until she giggles. “Definitely not as exciting as tea time with Little Miss Sunshine here, though.”

“Well yeah, this is pretty tough to beat,” Tony says. “I honestly don’t know why I ever do anything else, I could just stay here forever.”

“Yeah!” their daughter claps happily, bouncing in her seat. “You ‘n me ‘n Papa!”

“But what about the lackeys?” Steve asks her, barely able to hold back the smile. “They’ll be all alone, babydoll.”

“ _Oh_ ,” she says softly, baby blue eyes growing wide in realization.

“And Uncle Bucky and Uncle Sam? And Uncle Clint and Auntie Nat, and Auntie Pepper?”

“And Uncle Agent?” Tony joins in, winking at Steve over their daughter’s head.

“...Can dey live here with us?” She finally asks, a proud grin on her cherubic little face, and Steve feels happiness rush through him like sunlight, feels his heart close to bursting with love for the two people in front of him.

“That’s a lot of people, sweetie,” he says. 

“But we’ve lotsa rooms, Papa. Dey can all live here!”

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Tony mutters, and leans over-- how he doesn’t fall off the tiny chair, Steve has no idea-- to kiss her hair. “You’re giving me cavities.”

“Wa’s a cavity?”

“It’s something really awful and nasty but I will grin and bear it for you, _bella_.”

“Okay,” is all she says, and goes back to diligently pouring tea for the rest of stuffed animals crowded around the table. Tony lets out a laugh, soft and full of awe, Steve feels every part of his body finally relax.

It was good to be home.


	70. The one where... Tony could probably be a little more helpful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #26: “You look really sexy when you do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You look really sexy when you do that.”

“Tony–”

“I’m kind of having a hard time focusing on anything else right now.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve says calmly, even though his smile looks more like a grimace as he single-handedly stands there carrying their 42″ flat screen. “If you don’t open this door in the next second…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony sighs, and opens the door to the apartment building. “But you can’t blame me for staring, babe. Your arms are a fucking wonder.”

“I’m flattered you think so,” Steve chuckles around a grunt as he starts the slow climb up three floors. “But these arms can only hold somethin’ this big for so long.”

Tony scoffs as he follows him up, and doesn’t even bother looking away from his boyfriend’s ass. “You fucked me against the wall twice last night–”

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Steve gasps, almost tripping as he reaches the second floor. “Tony-- shit!”

“Sorry,” Tony says, but oh, they both know he’s not sorry at all. “I’ll just, I’ll shut up.”

“ _Please._ ”

“Point is, though,” he says a moment later, and pretends he doesn’t hear Steve’s sigh. “I weigh a hell of a lot more than our TV.”

“True, but I don’t mind carrying you nearly as much,” the blond replies, sending him a quick wink over his shoulder.

“Sap,” Tony mutters, and swats at Steve’s ass. “Now chop chop, honey bunch– Home sweet home!”

“I like the sound of that,” Steve chuckles, groaning in relief when they reach their new apartment door. “C’mon, babe, help a fella out.”

“I should ask the tenants if they’ll help me build an elevator,” Tony says, stepping around the blond to lead them both in. “This is ridiculous.”

“If anything, it’ll be good for your cardio, Tony.”

“You give me plenty of workout, baby,” he purrs, and then– “Hey, no, hon, TV doesn’t go there.”

“What–yeah, it does.”

“Uh, no. Corner, please.”

Steve shakes his head. “Up against the wall, sweetheart.”

“Steve, it’ll look better in the corner.”

“Tony–”

“Corner.”

“No.”

“Steve,” Tony narrows his eyes.

Steve follows suit. “ _Tony._ ”

“I’ll let you pick the spot for our bed.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “You sure? ‘Cause that’s a mighty big task. I was kinda expectin’ you to already have a place in mind.”

“I don’t care where the bed ends up. As long as you’re in it with me,” Tony says simply, shrugging his shoulders even as he feels his lips quirk up into a soft smile.

Steve finally puts down the TV– in the corner, Tony notes happily– and walks over to wrap his arms around Tony and smack a kiss on his cheek. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too, cupcake,” Tony says.

“And I don’t wanna hear any complainin’ when I pick the spot.”

“Keep me busy and you won’t.”

Steve blushes prettily, and then looks around at the boxes scattered around the room. “Alright, so where do we start?”

“Yeah, no,” Tony shakes his head. “Let’s call it a day, babe.“

Steve looks like he’s going to argue, but then he sighs and nods, pulling away to pull out his phone. “Good idea. I’ll order Chinese?”

“Don’t forget the Kung Pao.”

“Have I ever?”

“That’s why I love you.”

“Better not be the only reason,” Steve teases as he walks away, and his grin warms Tony’s chest as he sets out to find the blankets.

\- - - - -

“Are you happy?”

Tony barely hears Steve’s voice over the sweeping melody coming from the television in front of them. It’s not loud, but it echoes slightly around the mostly empty living room. “Hmm?”

“You happy?”

Tony lifts his head from Steve’s shoulder to look up at him. “Course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I know it’s not…” Steve’s eyes fall to Tony’s chin, and he fiddles with corner edge of the throw covering them both. “It’s not what you’re used to–”

“Hey, whoa,” Tony sits up, pausing the movie to look down at the blond. “No, what’s… okay, talk to me. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony–”

“Talk.”

Steve sighs. “I tried so hard to find someplace nice–”

“This is nice.”

“I know, but… You’re used to– well, nicer things, don’t deny it–”

“I won’t.”

“And.. the rooms are kinda small. The tub can barely fit the both of us, and the kitchen counter’s about as long as my leg–”

“Good thing both of us are shit at cooking.”

“Tony,” Steve huffs, the corner of his lips quirked up in a barely there smile.

“What? Keep going.”

“I just… I wanna give you everything. I want..” he looks up at the ceiling, chest heaving as he takes one deep breath, then another. “God, sometimes I look at you and I feel like I’m dreamin’, Tony. And I want everything for you.”

Tony lets out a breathy “ _Steve…_ ”

“I know you could have it,” Steve continues. “You deserve all of it.”

“Well I don’t want it,” Tony says. “I want you.”

“I know–”

“No,” Tony shakes his head. “It’s my turn. The house in Malibu, the mansion in Manhattan. They were huge, and they were flashy, but that… that was all Howard. You know that. And I used to feel so fucking alone. I loved my Mom, but they were _never_ home.”

Steve just nods.

“I didn’t know what that felt like,” Tony says softly. “Until I met you. I don’t give a damn what our place looks like– okay, no, wait, I do. Kind of. I’m not particular about it, but it matters. A little. But baby, I would stick with you even if we lived in a shit hole in Hell’s Kitchen. If all we had was each other, I’d still be the luckiest son of a bitch alive, ‘cause wherever you are? You bet your sweet ass I’m gonna be right there with ya. You’re my home.”

His voice breaks on the last syllable, but it doesn’t matter because a second later, Steve’s surging up to cup the back of Tony’s neck and kissing him, pouring what feels like every conceivable emotion into it.

“And you’re mine,” Steve whispers when he pulls away, words as soft as the press of his lips had been against Tony’s. “You know that, right? I love you so much.”

“I do,” Tony nods. “So quit trash talking our new apartment. It’s a fucking palace, okay?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Ooh, I like that, call me that again.”

“No.”

“Come on, sweet cheeks.”

“How ‘bout I just call you mine?” Steve asks, mouth brushing against Tony’s cheek with every word, and Tony bites his lip to smother the pathetically giddy smile threatening to break out.

“I’ll take that,” he says instead, relishing the utter happiness blooming in his chest, and leans back in.


	71. The one where... Steve will never NOT be gorgeous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #27: “This isn’t funny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“You want to.”

“No I don’t.”

Steve sighs. “It feels like you want to,” he says. “Your eyes are…”

“They’re what?” Tony asks.

“They’re… Doing that thing that they do, when you want to laugh,” Steve explains meekly, hunching his bony shoulders like he wants make himself smaller than he is.

He can’t.

“What do they do?”

“They get really bright, and crinkly at the corners.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat at the soft awe he can hear in the blond’s voice. "I’m just… honestly, I’m trying to imagine how you didn’t have a line of gals at your door back when you looked like this.”

“Tony–”

“What?” He smirks, sauntering up to where Steve’s sitting on a stool, skinny legs swinging high above the ground. “Now I know you’ve always been a looker.”

Steve rolls his eyes even as smiles, cheeks turning a bright shade of pink that looks delicious on his soft, smooth cheeks. “Come on, Shellhead–”

“And I thought those baby blues were perfect on you before? Well shit, handsome,” Tony drawls, grinning when Steve covers said eyes with his hand. “They’re even more of a showstopper now.”

“Oh god–”

“It’s Tony, beautiful, but you can call me that too,” Tony winks, and finally gets what he was hoping for as Steve doubles over, tiny shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter.

“Stop!” He gasps. “ _I h-have asthma, you a-asshole!_ ”

The words hit Tony like daggers, and he sobers up so quickly, it’s almost impressive. “Oh shit, shit, sorry, hey– Cap, breathe! Shit, fucking _fuck_ , Nat’s gonna kill me– Steve, hey, breathe– in, out, in, out.”

“I’m…” Steve gasps out one breath, then another, until he unfurls again and looks up at Tony through bright, watery eyes. “I’m o-okay. I’m fine, I s-swear.”

“Don’t fucking do that again,” Tony growls, barely resisting the urge to sweep the blond into his arms. It’d definitely be easier than usual. “Where are your meds, I know Bruce put ‘em all together for you–”

Steve reaches out to grab his arm. His skin is cold. “Tony.“

"Where are they, Rogers–”

“Tony.”

Tony takes a deep breath. “What.”

“Thank you.”

“For…”

Steve’s grin softens. “For cheering me up.”

“Anytime, gorgeous,” Tony replies. “Did you take your pills?”

“Yes, Ma.”

“All of them?”

“Tony–”

“Did you?”

Steve nods. “I can take care of myself, y’know. Even like this,” he points to his scrawny self.

“I don’t doubt it, sunshine,” Tony says, brushing a wayward strand of blond hair from Steve’s forehead. “But just… indulge me, yeah?”

“I guess,” Steve sighs. “God, I’d forgotten what it felt like.”

“Hey, no, no,” Tony gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “No moping, beautiful–”

“Tony–”

“Come on, I’ll go set up Mario Kart on the Wii, yeah? Bet you can’t beat me like this,” Tony grins in challenge. “Can your hands even reach all the buttons on the controls?”

Steve familiar smirk looks even more adorable on his smaller, younger-looking face, and he squares his thin shoulders as far as he can. “I’m gonna make you eat your words, Stark.”

“Famous last words.”

“Shut up and start walkin’, pal.”

“Yes, sir!”

\- - - - -

“This is weird.”

“What?”

“Not _weird_ weird,” Tony clarifies. “Not the, y’know, bad kind of weird.”

“There’s a bad kind?”

“Obviously. I think. But this isn’t it. This is.. this is good weird. I mean, seriously, Steve, my arms are actually touching each other behind your shoulders!”

“Tony.”

“What, they never get to do that– hey, no, don’t go, Cappy bear!” Tony whines, when he feels Steve start to pull away from where he’s all but splayed out on top of him. They’re the only two on the couch, and even with the rest of the team scattered around the room as they settle in for their weekly movie night, Tony only has eyes for the soothing weight above him.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Shellhead. I just… this can’t be comfortable for you.”

“I can barely feel you.”

“Oh, thanks,” Steve grumbles.

“No problem, shortcake.”

“Tony–”

“And now I know how you feel every time we do this.”

“Hey, now. You’re a little heavier, Tony.”

Tony lets out an exaggerated gasp. “Are you.. calling me fat?”

Steve’s chuckles are warm on his neck. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Tony pokes him on his side, and tries not to dwell too much on how he can feel Steve’s ribs. “Zip it, shrimp.”

“Who you callin’ shrimp, huh?” Steve asks loudly, and Tony barely has time to register Barnes’ resigned sigh from a few feet away before his chest is being pelted by tiny, pale hands. “Take it back!”

“Okay, whoa, I take it back,” Tony laughs. “Just don’t hurt yourself, Rogers.”

“You’re an ass,” Steve mumbles, lips brushing Tony’s shoulder with every word as he lowers his head back to where it was.

“You’re cute when you’re cranky.”

“You’re both sickening,” Clint groans. “Shoulda known nothing’d change. Start the movie so I don’t have to listen to this shit, yeah?”

Tony lifts a hand from Steve’s back and flips him off, and it’s not long before everyone’s attention is on the screen.

“Tony?” Steve’s voice is low and small, and everything Tony never wants him to sound like.

“Hmm?”

“I hate this.”

“I know you do,” Tony replies softly.

“But… you make it easier.”

Tony’s sure Steve feels the hitch in his heartbeat. “Yeah?”

"Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Cap,” he says, and when he feels Steve smile into his chest, he tightens his hold just a little bit more.


	72. The one where... Steve owes Bucky one for this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #28: “I dare you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I dare you.”

“Buck–”

“You haven’t taken your eyes off him since he walked through the door.”

“I just–”

“Don’t bullshit me, Stevie.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“And I still know it’s bullshit.”

“Bucky…” Steve sighs, reluctantly drawing his eyes away from the gorgeous brunet across the bar. “I can’t just. He’s not alone, what if–”

“Okay, look, there’s no way he’s banging either of the people with him.”

Steve almost chokes on his beer. “Oh god! Talk a little louder, wouldja?”

“Listen, he’s looked over here so many times, I’ve stopped counting,” Bucky says, smiling into the rim of his bottle as he takes a sip.

“Wh–really?” Steve asks, voice more than a little breathless.

“Scout’s honor.”

“They dropped you from the troop in week two, you can’t say that.”

“Still true,” Bucky points out. “He’s been eyein’ you all night, man. At least send a drink over.”

Steve tries not to look over. Again. He really does. “What kind do you think he likes?”

Bucky shrugs. “Fancy suit, shiny shoes? Looks like a Scotch guy. Lemme just go take a piss before you do anything, though.”

“You’re so crass.”

“‘s why they dropped me in week two, remember?” Bucky grins. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, punk.”

Steve just nods, and it’s not even ten seconds later after his friend walks away that he once again finds himself staring at the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He’s standing a long ways away, on the other side of the not-so-crowded bar, leaning against a tall table in a way that accentuates the leanness of his body, the strength of his legs, and the delicious curve of his ass.

Steve’s been half-hard from the moment he saw him, and everything else about the man sure as hell isn’t helping him– dark, tousled locks Steve’s hands are itching to touch, and his smile…

Well, Steve’s never seen anything even half as gorgeous.

But then he moves his gaze up, and almost has a heart attack when they meet large, gleaming eyes. “ _Shit_ ,” he curses, heart pounding a mile a minute as he drops his head and god, that wasn’t subtle at all, was it? He’s going to have to tell Buck and they’re gonna have to leave–

“…wanted to know if he could buy you a drink.”

Through the rush of blood in his head, Steve hears the horrifyingly familiar voice of his best friend, and sure enough, when he braves himself to look up...

There’s Bucky.

At the man’s table. Smiling like the little shit he is as he points to Steve.

He scrambles to put his bottle down, and then curses when it tips over and spills its remains on the table. “Fuck, fucking Buck. Shit, _oh god_ – excuse me,” he calls the bartender, voice not much more composed than he feels. “Hi, yeah, um, can I get– can I have a towel, please, or two? My drink–”

“Here. Let me,” a smooth, amused voice cuts in, right into his ear, and Steve can’t help the full bodied shiver that runs through him when he looks over his shoulder and finds dark eyes inches from his.

“Um,” he licks his lips, cheeks growing so hot, it’s pathetic. “Th-thanks.”

“No problem,” the man smirks, holding out a handful of napkins. “Not much left in there, lucky for you.”

“Yeah,” is all Steve can say, feeling oddly out of breath even though he’s barely moved, and he wills his hands not to shake as they clean up the small puddle in front of him.

“So, a little bird told me you wanted to buy me a drink?”

“Oh, um, no,” Steve stutters, “my friend, he, uh, he told me to, but I… hadn’t said yes.”

The brunet raises an eyebrow playfully. “So you don’t wanna buy me a drink?”

“Yeah, yes, I would. If I can. May I?” Steve feels like an idiot.

“Please.”

“Okay,” Steve nods, and then calls the bartender over. “I’ll have another, please,” he holds up his empty bottle. 

“And I’ll take a mineral water, actually,” the man says, then turns to Steve. “If you don’t mind…”

Steve shakes his head. “Oh yeah, no, that’s– that’s fine too, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks,” the brunet grins.

“You’re welcome,” Steve says softly, cursing the blush that settles on his cheeks.

“So, handsome, you got a name?”

“Sure I do.”

The man stares expectantly for a couple of seconds, and then lets out a soft, happy laugh. “Well, what is it?”

Even with his heartbeat still rushing, Steve holds out his hand. “Steve Rogers, at your service.”

“Well I sure hope so,” the brunet leers even as he takes Steve’s hand. “I’m Tony.”

“Hi,” Steve feels his lips quirk up into a smile.

“Hiya back. So, your friend…” Tony jerks a thumb in the direction of his table, and when Steve looks over, Bucky’s grin matches the ones from the two other people there, a dark skinned man in a US Marines jacket, and a tall red-haired woman in a suit not unlike Tony’s. “I think I owe him something for introducing us.”

“Don’t bother. Buck’s smug enough as it is.”

“Oh, I can tell. But truth be told, I was dying for a reason to come over here.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat. “Yeah?”

Tony hums. “You’re cute when you’re trying not to stare.”

“Oh god,” Steve groans, hands flying up to cover his face. “You noticed? Of course you did, I’m– gosh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tony laughs. “You did wonders for my ego. And now I’m here, so I think it worked out pretty well, don’t you think?”

Steve just nods, and feels warm all over when his eyes meets Tony’s again.

He’s gonna owe Bucky so much for this.


	73. The one where... Tony gets the best birthday present ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #29: “I got you a present.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I got you a present.”

Tony barely turns his head to face the man lying next to him. “I know,” he mumbles, and then quirks his lips into a lazy smirk. “You gave it to me this morning. Multiple times. And then again after breakfast. And right before the party–”

“Okay, yeah, I get it, I remember–”

“And during, too.”

Steve’s laughter is soft and low, warmth brushing Tony’s cheek with every breath. “Well, as fun as that was, it’s not the present I was talking about.” In the dim light of their bedroom, he’s more beautiful than ever, baby blues so soft and full of love, Tony’s almost left breathless.

“Better get it quickly, then,” he whispers. “We’ve got… Jay, how many minutes before midnight?”

“ _Seven, sir._ ”

“You heard the man, stud muffin. Seven minutes left until it’s officially no longer my birthday. So gimme.”

Steve doesn’t leave the bed like Tony’d been expecting. He doesn’t move at all, except to turn his body sideways until he’s facing Tony. “I need to say something first.”

Tony just nods.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Tony replies, and revels in how quick and easy the words come.

Steve beams, and scoots just a little bit closer. “My Ma used to tell me that the one thing she prayed for the most, every night before she went to bed, was that I’d be happy. That I’d find something I loved to do, and find someone I’d be proud to love and be loved by. And it’s been… well, God knows it hasn’t been an easy road, but it’s been worth it, for what I have now.”

“Steve–”

“Wait, just… let me finish, sweetheart?”

“Okay.”

Steve takes a deep breath, and reaches into his pocket. “And I just… I want you to know that every day I spend with you is-- it’s the best day of my life.”

“Oh shit,” Tony breathes, heart picking up speed because he has an inkling of what’s going on and _Jesus Christ, this can’t be real_. This can’t be happening, this kind of thing doesn’t happen.

Not to him.

“I don’t know that I could ever do anything to deserve the honor of getting to wake up next to you, of getting to work and fight and laugh with you. Because honey, you are the most amazing human being I’m ever gonna know. And you have no idea how much better you make me, Tony. In every way.

“And I love you, baby, so damn much. I love your mind– every razor sharp, lightning fast bit of it. And I love your heart. God, it…. it _humbles_ me. I love your eyes, I love your smile, I love the way you smell like metal and motor oil even after you’ve showered. I love the way you bite your lip when you’re trying not to laugh. There’s not a single part of you that I don’t love, not a single part of you that I wouldn’t give my life for.”

Tony can barely see through the tears in his eyes, but there’s no mistaking the gleaming band in the palm of Steve’s hand when he brings it up between them.

“Tony Stark, I’ve been yours from the second we screamed out insults at each other in that Hellicarrier, and I’m gonna be yours till my dying breath. But in the meantime, I’m kinda hopin’ you’ll say yes.”

“To what?” Tony says around a sob. “You h-haven’t asked me a fucking thing!”

Steve picks up the ring with his thumb and forefinger. “Will you marry me?”

“ _Fuck yeah_ ,” Tony answers, watching with baited breath as Steve slides the band onto his finger. “Shit, is that–”

“VIbranium, yeah,” is the last Steve says before he cups the back of Tony’s neck and brings their lips together in a slow, tender kiss. It’s a little salty from his tears, and there’s still a faint trace of chocolate from the cake they’d eaten hours before, but it makes Tony’s toes curl in his socks nonetheless.

They’re both gasping when they pull away, and Tony lets out a pathetically happy little sigh when Steve rubs his nose against Tony’s in an eskimo kiss.

“Gosh, I’m feelin’ lightheaded and we’re already lyin’ down,” Steve giggles, all bright, wet baby blues and dimpled cheeks, and he’s the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen. “I’m not dreamin’, right?”

Tony shakes his head, every nerve of his body positively bursting with love. “Feels like I am,” he admits. “Pinch me?”

Steve just finds Tony’s hand, and intertwines their fingers. “I’d rather just do this.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Now I’m _your_ sap.”

“Baby,” Tony says, cheeks aching from how hard he’s smiling, “you’ve always been mine.”


	74. The one where... it’s Steve’s birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #30: “Care to dance?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Care to dance?”

In the loud chaos of the Stark Tower living room, Tony feels Steve’s voice brush softly against his skin as the blond whispers in his ear. He ignores Rhodey’s knowing smirk, and puts his champagne glass down as he turns to face the Captain.

“It’s rude to interrupt,” he says, and doesn’t bother hiding the way his eyes roam appreciatively over Steve’s body in his old Army uniform.

“I’m sure Rhodey’s alright with it. Mind if I take him out for a turn, sir?” Steve asks, blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Why the hell are you calling him ‘sir’? And I haven’t even said yes,” Tony points out, already a little breathless at the quirk of Steve’s lips.

“Like you’d ever say no to him,” Rhodey laughs. “Especially on his birthday.”

“Whose side are you on?” Tony narrows his eyes, but there’s no hiding his smile as Steve pulls him away.

“Yours!” He hears Rhodey say, right before they disappear into the throng of people on the dance floor.

“I hadn’t even finished my glass yet--”

“I’ll get you one after,” Steve says, and turns Tony around to face him. The warm, smoky air in the room just makes him more gorgeous, and Tony bites his lip to keep from groaning at the unfairness of it all. “But only after we dance a couple’a sets, ‘cause I’m feelin’ a little ignored, Stark.”

“Oh, well forgive me if I’m too busy hosting this thing to spend every minute of it next to you,” Tony says. “Sure looked like you were having fun a couple of minutes ago with Sharon, anyway. And Nat. And Pep.”

Steve just grins, pulling him closer, and he smells like apple pie, goddamnit. “Sharon’s been teaching me to swing, so we thought we’d put some of it to good use. And then Ms. Potts wanted to talk about an art exhibit comin’ to town– thought I’d enjoy it.”

“What about Romanoff?”

“Said she wanted to give me a turn for my birthday.”

“How nice of her,” Tony deadpans. 

Steve hums, and keeps swaying. “I’ve been itchin’ for a dance with you, though.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I wanted to say thanks.”

“You already did,” Tony says. “I lost count twenty minutes into this thing.”

“Doesn’t feel like enough,” Steve shakes his head. “Really, Tony. This is…” he looks around the room, and Tony follows his gaze, taking in the expertly decorated WWII Era decorations, the lighting and the smoky haze that’s transformed the entire floor into a time capsule to the 1940′s. “This is amazing.”

Even the guests– and there are more of them than Tony’d expected, but Steve’s never had a shortage of friends, no surprise– look like they’ve stepped right out of all those war reels Tony’d seen when he was a kid. It’s as perfect as he’d wanted Steve’s birthday to be. “‘Course it is,” he says, with more aplomb than he feels. “All my parties are.”

Steve’s laughter is warm against Tony’s temple, as warm as the hand resting on the small of Tony’s back. “Thank you, all the same.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony says. “I figure you’d, y’know… appreciate going back in time, if only for a day.”

“It’s wonderful. And you wanna know what the best part is?”

“ _You in this fucking uniform, Jesus Christ_ ,” Tony groans, winking when Steve pulls away to glare playfully. “Don’t look at me like that, Winghead.”

“Stop,” Steve says, cheeks as flushed as his smile is soft. “I’m tryin’ to be serious.”

“Alright, alright,” Tony rolls his eyes. “What’s the best part, then? And if you say something ridiculous like the mini quiches–”

“It’s you.”

It feels like the room goes still. “What?”

Steve steps back into Tony’s space. “I love everything about this right now, but… it wouldn’t be half as grand without you.”

“Cap–”

“You know I’m happy here, right?”

“Yeah,” Tony nods, but he thinks something in his face must’ve said otherwise– or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s Steve; Tony’s always been an easy book when it comes to his Captain– because the blond’s smile turns fond and a little sad all at once.

“I wouldn’t change a single thing about my life.”

“Not even–”

“Not a thing,” Steve says again. “How could I, when you’re in it?”

Tony feels his eyes start to burn. “Steve…”

“You gave me a home, Tony. So as much as I’ll love every second tonight, I’ll be just as happy when it’s over. When it’s just you and me again.”

“God, you’re such a fucking meatball.” Tony breathes, face buried in Steve’s shoulder to hide the tears, but the opening notes of a new song echo around the room before either of them can say anything else.

“Oh. I… I remember this…” Steve whispers, and by the time Tony registers the playful gleam in those baby blues, he’s helpless to escape.

“ _Someday,_ ” Steve sings.

“Oh no–”

“– _When I’m awfully low_ –”

“No, stop–”

“ _When the world is cold_ –”

“Steve–”

“– _I will feel a glow just thinking of you_ –”

“Motherf–”

“ _And the way you look tonight_ ,” Steve finishes against Tony’s ear.

“I hate you,” Tony says, but knows the smile on his face says otherwise, and by the time Steve’s pulling them this way and that, weaving in and out of the other smiling couples on the floor, he’s laughing like he hasn’t laughed in years. “I can’t– Steve, _stop_!”

“Nope. You owe me a dance, mister!”

“What’ve we been doing this whole time?”

Steve, the gorgeous bastard, just grins and keeps singing. “ _Lovely, don’t you ever change_ ,” 

“If you don’t stop–”

“ _Keep that breathless charm_ –”

“You’re ridiculous–”

“-- _Won’t you please arrange it? ‘Cause I love you…_ ”

Tony’s heart feels ready to burst from so much love, it’s almost unbearable.

“ _Just the way you look tonight_ ,” Steve finishes against Tony’s ear, slow and whisper-soft.

“Fuck,” he breathes as the last notes die down, eyes wet from laughter. “You little shit.”

But Steve’s grin is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and for the rest of the night, it stays with Tony like sunlight in his chest.

_… Just the way you look tonight… ___


	75. The one where... Steve and Tony prove they make the best team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civil Union Fest Prompt #31: “I promise it won't be that bad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I promise it won’t be that bad.”

“Tony–”

“I’ll buy you a plane.”

“I don’t need a plane.”

“How ‘bout _two_ planes?”

Steve looks unimpressed. “Really.”

“Okay, maybe not planes,” Tony shrugs. “But something else– anything. Whatever you want, big guy, it’s yours.”

“Coney Island.”

“You… want Coney Island?” Tony frowns.

Steve shakes his head. “No, Tony. Take me to Coney Island sometime?”

“You’ve already been there,” Tony says. “I remember SHIELD freaking the fuck out the entire time.”

“I want you to come with me this time. Just us. We’ll make it a day thing?”

“What if–” Tony starts, but Steve cuts him off.

“That’s my price.”

Tony relents with a sigh, even as his heart pitter patters pitifully at the thought of spending an entire day with Steve, of getting those eyes and that smile all to himself. “Don’t see how that’s better than a plane,” he mutters.

“You kiddin’?” Steve grins. “I can’t think of anything better than spendin’ time with my best guy.”

“God, did the serum make you like this, or were you always this much of a sap?”

“You’re pretty mouthy for a guy who supposedly needs me. I’m the one doin’ you a favor, Shellhead.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tony rolls his eyes, but leans up to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek on his way out the kitchen. “Interview’s tomorrow, eleven am sharp. Dress nice, handsome.”

“The things I do for you…” Steve calls out, but Tony can hear the fondness in his voice as he walks away.

\- - - - - - - - - -

**A Tale of Two Heroes**

by Peter Parker, Guest Writer

_From the moment I enter Stark Tower, I get the sense not many get to– at least not for anything other than business._

_The receptionist at the front desk greets me with narrow eyes and a polite smile when I tell her who I am, but a phone call later, she’s pointing me to a well-concealed elevator, where I spend the next moments trying to steady my breathing._

_All in vain, though, because as soon as the doors open, I’m treated to the sight of a dagger, thin and shiny, embedded neatly on the opposite wall at head length. I almost give in to the urge to touch it. But it’s probably explosive– not impossible in the slightest, given my current location– and thus I keep my fists clenched and my feet moving._

_It’s almost like I’m about to see the president._

_Not that I’d know what that feels like, but when you’re meeting Iron Man and Captain America in the flesh, I can’t imagine it’d feel very different._

_I spot no less than half a dozen things that almost have me drooling like an overexcited teenager: a photograph of Captain Rogers and the Howling Commandoes framed in the middle of the hallway, a plaque reading:_ “В гостя́х хорошо́, а до́ма лу́чше” _(“Being a guest is good, but being at home is better,” is what it says, I later learn), and hanging on the coat hanger right before I enter the main room? A sleek, black quiver with a handful of arrows, and the legendary Mjolnir._

_No museum exhibit could ever top this, but I force my feet further in, and that’s when I see them._

_They’re somehow exactly what I’d expected when they greet me– all smiles and firm handshakes from both, with a playful jab at my age from Mr. Stark– and yet, I still find myself caught off guard. Just a little bit._

_They_ are _superheroes, after all._

 **PP:** Did you guys know there’s a dagger by the elevator?  
**SR:** I was hoping they’d taken it down.  
**TS:** Yeah, I might’ve made a… comment last night. Romanoff wasn’t amused. I think we should keep it, no?  
**SR** : Just until you learn your lesson.  
**TS:** [ _Smirks._ ] That’s no fun. Let’s get down to business, though, shall we?  
**PP:** We weren’t sure we’d be able to get the both of you.  
**TS:** You almost didn’t. Lucky for you, stubborn is my middle name, even if Cap drives a hard bargain.  
**SR** : [ _Grins._ ] I think I got a pretty good incentive.  
**TS:** God, can you imagine having to live with this all the time?  
**PP:** Seems like a small price to pay for living with Captain America.  
**TS:** Believe me, I know.  
**PP:** Alright, well, I always start out with a little game I like to call ‘A Few of My Favorite Things’.  
**SR:** I understood that reference.  
**TS:** Good for you, Cap. [ _Turns to me, laughing._ ] I almost threw him off the roof once, after he saw it the first time– wouldn’t stop humming the ‘Do-Re-Mi’ song. If he starts again, I’m suing.  
**PP:** You have to answer for each other, though.  
**TS:** Oh?  
**PP:** America wants to know if you’re as good a team as you say you are.  
**TS:** Oooh, y’hear that, Rogers?  
**SR:** [ _Nods, and squares his shoulders. It’s a little intimidating._ ] Loud and clear, Shellhead.  
**TS:** Sounds like a challenge. Alright, kid– bring it.  
**PP:** Okay. Favorite color?  
**SR:** His? Blue.  
**TS:** Wouldn’t think so, right? But what can I say, he wears it well.  
**SR:** [ _Blushes._ ]  
**PP:** Mr. Stark?  
**TS:** Call me Tony. And his favorite color’s red. Obviously.  
**PP:** Is it?  
**SR:** Yeah. It’s–  
**TS:** Sexy?  
**SR:** I was going to say... nice.  
**TS:** If you say so.  
**PP:** Next– favorite ice cream flavor?  
**TS:** He loves vanilla with a passion. I don’t get it.  
**SR:** It’s a classic.  
**TS:** [ _Rolls his eyes._ ] It’s boring.  
**SR:** Sure didn’t look like you thought it was boring last week.  
**TS:** Barton ate all my Chunky Monkey! I needed the sugar rush, remember?  
**SR:** I remember finding my empty carton back in the freezer.  
**TS:** I bought you another one.  
**SR:** Not the point.  
[ _I feel like they’ve forgotten me at this point… I don’t even mind._ ]  
**PP:** What’s Mr. Stark’s?  
**SR:** Chunky Monkey.  
**PP:** Not sure if this one counts. He did just say it.  
**TS:** Trust me, he already knew.  
**PP:** Okay, favorite getaway?  
**SR:** His workshop.  
**TS:** Everybody knows that.  
**PP:** What’s his? [I point at Mr. Rogers, and both of them share a grin.]  
**TS:** My workshop.  
**PP:** Why?  
**SR:** There’s a… peace, in all the chaos. And he’s always there, so–  
**TS:** Hey, whoa– ‘chaos’? What chaos?  
**SR:** [ _Rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too, so I figure he’s been through this before._ ] That would be what you choose to focus on.  
**TS:** It’s called genius.  
**SR:** Well I wouldn’t know, now, would I?  
**TS:** Hey now, don’t sell yourself short, handsome. You’ve got plenty of brains to go with all that brawn.  
**SR:** …Next question, please.  
[ _I have to wait for Mr. Stark’s laughter to die down a bit before I continue._ ]  
**PP:** Favorite film?  
**TS:** _Return of the King._ He’s like a kid every time we watch it, it’s adorable. What’s mine?  
**SR:** _A New Hope._  
**TS:** Got it in one, Cap.  
**PP:** Now, if you were stuck on a deserted island, and you could only take three things with you, what would they be?  
**TS:** Do people count?  
**SR:** People aren’t things, Tony, so no.  
**PP:** No people.  
**TS:** Then he’d take a box of art supplies, a StarkPhone, and his shield.  
**SR:** That was… really fast.  
**TS:** I’m right, though, ain’t I?  
**SR:** Not surprising.  
**TS:** [ _Leans over to press a loud kiss to Mr. Roger’s cheek._ ] Thanks, big guy! Your turn.  
**SR:** Um, your suit–  
**TS:** Obviously.  
**SR:** And coffee.  
**TS:** Yep.  
**SR:** And… my shield.  
**TS:** [ _Laughs._ ] I could use it as a plate when I catch fish.  
**SR:** ‘When’?  
**TS:** Oh, wow, no faith in me, huh? I don’t even know why we’re friends.  
**SR:** Because you’d hurt yourself trying to reach the top cupboards in the kitchen?  
**TS:** Jerk.  
**PP:** Favorite food?  
**SR:** He will never, ever turn down a plate of Carbonara.  
**TS:** Especially the family recipe. I’d make it myself if I could, but if I even touch a stove, I think I’d burn the kitchen down.  
**SR:** He always gets one of us to do it.  
**PP:** Who makes it the best?  
**TS:** Bruce. It’s a science thing. Steve’s a close second, though.  
**PP:** And speaking of Mr. Rogers, what’s his favorite?  
**TS:** Mr. New Yorker here? He’s all for a good pie, no surprise.  
**SR:** Pepperoni’s so much better these days.  
**PP:** I feel the same way. Are you a fan of Hawaiian?  
**TS:** Oh Christ, he looked fucking mind-boggled the first time he tried it.  
**SR:** It was sweet! It’s a little strange, so it’s… not my kinda thing.  
**PP:** Fair enough. Okay, last question: favorite person.  
**TS:** Tony Stark. Next?  
**SR:** [ _Nods, then looks over at Mr. Stark._ ] His? It’s… is it a tie?  
**TS:** [ _Turns to Mr. Rogers._ ] Nope.  
**SR:** No? I dunno, then. Is it Pepper? Or JARVIS? I don’t know– tell me, will ya? [ _He laughs, and leans in closer. Mr. Stark rolls his eyes before whispering in his ear._ ] Oh. [ _He blushes._ ] It’s me.  
**TS:** [ _Chuckles._ ] Who else would it be?  
**PP:** That was a definite pass, guys. Congrats!  
**SR:** Mission accomplished, Iron Man.  
**TS:** You’re a dork…

_(Cont. pg 159)_

**PP:** You two were ranked number one on the ‘Best Superhero Team Ups’–  
**TS:** Third year in a row, but who’s counting, right?  
**PP:** And many of us are wondering: what’s it like, being teammates? Being partners…  
[ _Both look thoughtful, but Mr. Stark speaks first._ ]  
**TS:** Is there anyone you can trust anything with?  
**PP:** I… don’t know.  
**TS:** Well, if you can think of someone, imagine them being right next to you, one hundred percent, no matter what. And you know they’ve got your back. I learned the hard way that when you’re at your worst, it pays to have people willing to shoulder some of the weight.  
**SR:** …What he said. [ _Laughs._ ]  
**TS:** Oh no, Cap, no piggybacking. Share with the class, please.  
**SR:** Look… There’s no one I trust more than my team. Every mission, every fight, they’re the ones I will always place my bets on. And this guy– [ _points to Mr. Stark_ ]– we’re the leaders. We’ll bear the brunt of it, if we can, and we’ll do it together. Two heads are better than one, right? Especially if the other head’s his.  
**TS:** Barnes jokes that we’re Mom and Dad, but… I think he’s got the gist of it, honestly.  
**PP:** Who’s Mom?  
**SR:** He is.  
**TS:** [ _Winks at me._ ] We all let him think that.  
**SR:** That’s what they told me you’d say.  
**TS:** Whatever floats your boat, sweet cheeks.  
**PP:** So what would you do if there was ever an issue you disagreed on?  
**SR:** Well, that happens already– only every once in a while. But if it was something big… [ _Looks at Mr. Stark._ ] I can’t imagine not talking about it with him. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’d be able to find common ground. Compromise is a big part of any relationship, and we’ve been through too much to let anything come between us. I owe it to him to listen, every single time.  
**TS:** He’s the most stubborn human being I’ve ever met. But he’s also the best, y’know? I’d be an idiot not to do the same.  
**PP:** That’s… comforting to know.  
**TS:** [ _Grins._ ] Hear that, America? We’re good. We’re better than good.  
**SR:** As long as he sticks to his Chunky Monkey.  
**TS:** Don’t worry, Cap– I love you too much to throw it all away for your boring Vanilla.  
**SR:** Y’know, I remember reading somewhere that you can tell a lot about a person by what kind of ice cream flavor they like best.  
[ _I remember– it was an article seven issues ago. I don’t tell him._ ]  
**TS:** Total bullshit, sunshine. You’re about the farthest thing from boring.  
**SR:** I’m so glad you think so.  
**PP:** Well, I think I’ve got time for one last thing, and then I can snap a shot or two, right?  
**TS:** No problem, kiddo. It’d be a tragedy if we didn’t get a close up of Steve’s beard.  
**SR:** Tony–  
**TS:** It’s a fucking dream, not gonna lie. As in, I’ve actually had dreams about it.  
**SR:** Oh my god, Tony, no– no close ups.  
**TS:** Ugh, fine. Put the puppy eyes away, though. I’m only human. Anyway, last question, Parker.  
**PP:** Describe each other in one sentence.  
**TS:** Aristotle said that a friend is a single soul in two bodies, yeah? He’s the other half of mine. [ _Points at Mr. Rogers._ ]  
**PP:** Captain?  
**SR:** [ _Smiles like I’ve never seen anyone smile at another person._ ] He’s home.


	76. The one where... there’s very little freaking out, surprisingly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #1: “Kind of romantic, isn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Kind of romantic, isn’t it?”

“…You’re hogging the blankets, sweetheart.”

“But I’m cold.”

“Should I close the window, then?”

“ _Nooooo_ ,” Tony whines, pressing himself further into Steve as he maneuvers the bed covers over the two of them. “Mhmm… that’s better, right?” he whispers into the blond’s neck, and smiles when Steve’s warmth surrounds him.

“Now that I’m holding you, yeah.”

“Sap,” Tony laughs, a low, faint thing that doesn’t manage to drown out the steady pitter patter of the storm beyond their window. “Want me to warm you up some more?” he purrs, fingers wandering down to the warm skin of Steve’s hip in a soft caress.

But his boyfriend just shakes his head, and turns on his side as he pulls Tony closer, until they’re face to face. “Maybe later,” he whispers, all tousled hair and baby blue eyes hazy with sleep. “For now, all I wanna do is kiss you.”

Tony revels in the thrill of anticipation that runs through him even as he feels his face grow warm. “Knock yourself out then, soldier,” is all he gets to say before warm lips are pressed against his own, and the world beyond their bed falls away. Steve kisses him slowly, tenderly, with so much love, it almost brings Tony to tears, and as he cups the blond’s jaw with trembling hands to deepen the kiss, he hopes Steve can feel just how much Tony loves him in turn.

He doesn’t know how long it all lasts, but when he finally pulls away for air, Steve’s smile is all he can see. “S-so this is n-nice, huh?” he pants, shivering from the delicious feel of Steve's body pressed to his.

“Mmmm, _very_ nice,” Steve murmurs, ducking down to nip at Tony’s scruffy jaw, then his ear. “Can’t think of a better way to spend my day, having my fella all to myself.

“Ditto,” Tony nods. His fingers move down to find Steve’s, and it’s with a soft, content sigh that he brings them up to press a kiss to his wrist.

Steve’s eyes find his at the action, grin is boyish and bright and everything he deserves to be. “I love you.”

“Love you too, baby,” Tony replies, and smiles.

\- - - - -

“Tony?” 

“Hmmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Tony looks up from the sight of their intertwined hands lying atop the soft, white duvet cover. The rain’s kept its steady rhythm outside the cottage, but the sky has turned considerably darker, and Tony knows it’s been hours since they’ve done anything but lie in bed and hold each other. He can’t remember the last time they had a chance to do this, and he’s determined to not let it go to waste.

“Tony?”

“Sorry, hon,” he says, closing the space between them to give Steve’s chin a lazy peck. “Y’were saying…”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

Steve looks down at their hands, and then back up with determined blue eyes. “Will you marry me?” he whispers.

“Yes,” Tony replies just as quietly. There’s no panic, no fear, no doubt– it’s as easy as breathing.

It’s no surprise, since loving this man might just be the easiest thing he’s ever done.

“Okay,” is all Steve says, bright eyes filling with tears, and with the sound of the rain still echoing around them, he kisses the smile off Tony’s face with a happy laugh.


	77. The one where... Tony meets Mr. Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #2: “Are you ready?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Are you ready?”

“No!”

“Well, you look ready.”

“....No!”

Tony rolls his eyes even as his lips quirk up into a helpless smile at the sound of his son’s bright, happy giggles. “So you don’t wanna go to school?”

“No!”

“And you don’t want to do all that fun stuff they’ll probably be doing?”

“No!”

“And you don’t want to make friends?”

“N--” Peter starts, but then snaps his mouth shut when the words seem to register, and his eyes-- big and brown like Tony’s-- widen in distress. “Fwiends?”

“Yeah, bud. But I guess if you really don’t want to, you can always stay here at hom--”

“ _Nooooo!_ ” His son all but wails, scrambling off his bed and disappearing into his closet, running back moments later with a pair of shoes in his hands. “Daddy, no, I wanna go t’school! Daddy, I go to school!”

“You sure?” Tony tries to sound serious, but the smile on his face still hasn’t gone away, so he’s pretty sure he fails.

“Uh huh,” Peter nods, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth as he stuffs his tiny feet into his tiny, red Converse. Tony doesn’t bother helping, because even at four, his son’s determined to do as much on his own as he can. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“You come wif me?” Peter asks, and the way his voice quivers slightly makes Tony sweep him into his arms moments later, peppering kisses to his cheeks and hair.

“Sure I will, Petey pie,” he says. “But only for a little while, okay?”

Peter sighs, but when he pulls away, there’s a tiny smile on his face again, and Tony knows he’s going to be okay.

\- - - - -

Margaret Carter Elementary School is a bustle of parents and children when Happy pulls up to the curb, and as Peter’s hand holds tightly onto Tony’s, Tony knows he’s not the only one feeling uncharacteristically hesitant. His son’s eyes are wide as he looks around his surroundings and the other children being dropped off, but he keeps pace with Tony as they make their way through the thinning crowds to room 3A.

“How ya feelin’, baby?” He looks down, brushing his thumb against Pete’s tiny fingers when his son looks up at him, smile shaky but real.

“‘m okay.”

“I know you are,” Tony says softly, then turns at the next doorway and enters his son’s classroom.

And almost trips over his own feet because _holy shit_ , there’s no way the person standing in front of them is real.

“Hi there,” he hears, the words faint from the sudden rush of blood pounding in his ears as the most beautiful man he’s ever seen crouches down and gently shakes hands with Peter, lips quirked up into a bright smile to match his bright blue eyes. “Who might you be?”

“‘m Peter.”

“So nice to meet you, buddy. I’m Mr. Rogers.”

A huff of laughter leaves Tony’s lips before he knows it, leaving him more breathless than he already is.

It should be illegal to have a body like the one he’s looking at right now.

“--bout you go pick out a seat for the day while I talk to your dad for a sec, yeah? Then you can tell me all about your awesome backpack.”

“‘s Cap’n America,” Peter says proudly. “He’s me ‘n Daddy’s fav’rite!”

“Well, guess what? He’s mine too, so I’m looking forward to hearing all about that,” Mr. Rogers keeps smiling as Peter toddles off, and then turns those baby blues on Tony as he straightens back up and holds out his hand. “Mr. Stark, I take it?”

Tony doesn’t bother ignoring the frisson of attraction that runs through him when their fingers touch. “Yeah, no, Mr. Stark was my old man, and he...” he waves his other hand around, clears his throat, and then puts on his most winning smile.“Just call me Tony.”

“No problem,” Mr. Rogers nods. “Now, Principal Fury told me you’d be sitting in for a little while this morning?”

“First day jitters and all,” Tony replies.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Mr. Rogers says kindly.

“Oh, I know. But the kid’s currently revisiting his ‘no’ phase, and he’s every bit as stubborn as _his_ old man.”

Mr. Rogers raises an eyebrow in playful challenge. “I’ve got it covered, Tony, though I can’t imagine many saying no to him, with eyes like those,” he chuckles.

Tony’s grin feels easier than it has in a long time. “He gets them from me, too,” he drawls, and feels a surge of victory when the blond’s cheeks flush ever so slightly.

\- - - - -

“Daddy!”

Tony lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding when Peter barrels into his legs. “Hiya, baby,” he coos, and lifts his boy up into his arms. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!”

“Were you good for Mr. Rogers?”

Peter nods enthusiastically, and then widens his eyes. “ _Daddy_ ,” he gasps.

“Hmm?”

Peter looks over at Mr. Rogers from the corner of his eye-- when Tony does the same, he sees the blond trying and failing to hide a smile-- and then pats Tony’s shoulders. “Mr. Steeb likes Cap’n America too!”

“Does he?” Tony asks.

“Uh huh!” Peter nods, wriggling excitedly as he takes turns looking at the two of them. “An’ he liked my Cap backpack, an’-- an’ Daddy! He had Cap’n ‘Merica cookies ‘an he gave us some!”

“Bribing ‘em early, huh?” he asks Mr. Rogers-- Steve, is it?-- who responds with a gorgeous grin, thick arms crossed against his deliciously massive chest.

“Looks like it worked.”

“No wonder he was good for you.”

“Nonsense,” Steve shakes head. “He’s a very well behaved little guy.”

“I know,” Tony replies proudly, and feels something in his chest grow warm when the blond’s smile softens as he looks at them both.

“But, um,” Steve says tentatively, curling his shoulders in almost imperceptibly. It’s almost like he’s... nervous. “If you ever want to... well, sit in again, I’d-- we, we’d be more than happy to have ya.”

Tony manages to keep his giddy laughter in, and settles for a soft smile of his own as he nods. “I think I'll take you up on that.”


	78. The one where... Tony’s night ends so much better than it started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #3: “Let’s get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Wh–”

“Excuse me, folks,” Steve says, and when Tony looks over his shoulder to glare, all he gets in return is the bright, wholesome grin the bastard decides to grace Tony’s audience with. “I’m awfully sorry to interrupt, but I hope you don’t mind if I pull Mr. Stark away for a couple of minutes–”

“Steve–” is all Tony’s able to say before he feels the blond’s elbow gently digging into his spine.

“We’ve got some urgent Avengers business,” Steve finishes, already pulling at Tony’s free hand even though the people around them have barely started nodding. “I’ll bring him back, I promise.”

Tony can only wave, and then let out a loud chuckle when he hears Steve’s muttered ‘ _maybe_ ’. “What are you do–”

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do,” Tony replies, without hesitation, and smiles when Steve pulls him closer. 

“Then just come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Out to the gardens.”

“Oh baby, I like the sound of that,” Tony waggles his eyebrows, and feels a thrill of fondness when Steve’s cheek turn pink. 

“Zip it, mister. I just thought…” Steve shrugs, but trails off as he leads Tony out the ballroom and into the chilly night, through carefully trimmed shrubs and leafy walls covered in flowers and fairy lights.

“Thought what– _Steve_.”

“Just a little bit more, ‘round this corner and… here.”

Tony opens his mouth to ask yet another question, except he follows Steve’s gaze and–

“ _Oh_ ,” he breathes, taking in the red, white and blue picnic blanket laid out on the small patch of grass in front of them, a large basket sitting right in the middle. “You…”

“I know you’ve, um, been pretty busy all day, with the gala and all,” Steve fiddles with his fingers. “So I figured you’d like a second to, y’know… breathe.”

”You…did this for me?”

Steve nods. “And I know you haven’t had lunch, so…” he picks up the basket, and opens it with a grin.

“Are those…”

“Burgers? Yeah.”

Tony breathes in a shaky breath, blinks away the faint sting in his eyes, and leans up to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “You’re the best.”

Steve can’t even meet his eyes when he pulls away. “Thanks.”

“Now c’mon, gimme gimme!” Tony plops down on the blanket and makes grabby hands, heart skipping a beat when Steve sit down close enough for their thighs to touch.

“Take your time, please. I don’t want you to choke.”

“That’s what he said,” Tony replies, already around a mouthful of meat and cheese.

Steve bumps his shoulder against Tony’s. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

"Yep.”

“Worth it, though, if it gets you to smile like that,” Steve says, voice as soft as the gleam of awe in his eyes, and Tony feels his whole face grow warm.

“Sap,” he whispers, resting his head on the blond’s shoulder even as he continues to chew on his burger. “I can’t believe you lied in there to play hooky.”

“I don’t hear you complainin’ now.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not complaining,” Tony shakes his head. “I just really fucking love it when you go all Brooklyn on us.”

“ _Tony_.”

“What? It’s hot, not gonna lie.”

“I will take that second burger back.”

“No you won’t,” Tony sing songs, and feels Steve smile into his hair.

\- - - - -

“It doesn’t look like a dog.”

“Yes it does, just– look, turn your head like… like that. Do you see it?”

“… No.”

Tony rolls his eyes even as he lets out a laugh that fills the space around them. “I give up.”

“I’m trying! I just– I see Sirius, I even see Orion’s belt.”

“Eh, not a total loss, then,” he shrugs, sneaking a glance at Steve, who’s staring up at the sky with an adorably furrowed brow. “Don’t hurt yourself, Cap. You’ll get it. Eventually.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Steve looks over at him fondly, and Tony can’t resist winking at him.

“Anytime, Spangles.”

“Y’know, we’ve been out here longer than I think anyone expected us to be gone.”

“Not long enough.”

“Our suits are wrinkled.”

“Don’t care.”

“Pepper won’t be happy.”

“You want to go back inside, then?” Tony asks, a faint tendril of disappointment unfurling in his chest. 

But Steve just shakes his head, and smiles Tony’s favorite smile. “Not a chance, Stark.”

“Good,” is all Tony can say, and smiles when he feels Steve’s hand find his between their bodies.


	79. The one where... Steve pulls out all the stops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #4: “This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you’ve ever had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prequel to Chapter 47! :)
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you’ve ever had.”

“Hey, I dunno about that, man. Remember the aquarium trip in third grade?”

Bucky winces immediately. “Shit... that _was_ bad.”

“Yeah, this is just... well, it’s damn cute, is what,” Sam grins, and punches Steve’s shoulder playfully.

Steve rolls his eyes even as he feels his cheeks grow warm. “Just shuddup and watch the door, will ya?”

“Relax, Stevie. As long as Parker doesn’t go on blabbing about us bribing him, no one’ll show up until it’s too late,” Bucky says, but his gaze never leaves the hallway outside.

“Gotta get ready,” Sam says. “Less than a minute till we’re on, ‘kay? You can do it.”

“Well, it’s too late to back out now,” Bucky mutters under his breath. 

“Like hell I will,” Steve says, despite the butterflies in his stomach. “I just... I wish I could see his face.”

“Don’t worry, I bet Nat’ll whip out her phone the second she realizes what’s going on,” Bucky replies.

“Do you guys... you think he’ll be embarrassed?” Steve asks softly. “I probably shoulda thought of somethin’ nicer--”

Sam chuckles. “That boy’s not gonna know what hit him, Rogers. Trust me.”

“We’re gonna get so much shit for this,” Bucky mumbles, sparing them a glance over his shoulder. “You’re lucky we love you, you crazy punk.”

Sam nods. “I can’t believe we’re doing this-- shit, okay, here we go,” he whispers excitedly, then clears his throat and leans in to the microphone. “ _Good mornin’, SHIELD High! This is Sam Wilson comin’ to you live for today’s morning announcements_.”

From behind them, Steve can hear Bucky snickering into his hand.

“ _We’re doin’ things a little differently this morning, so..._ ” Sam shuffles the papers Peter’d left for them on the desk. “ _Um, okay, first thing’s first, I’ve got a short reminder here from Principal Fury, for those of you with cars: double parking? Don’t do it. Don’t be that person, ‘cause you get nothing out of it except detention. And detention sucks, ya’ll. So don’t double park._

” _And now that that’s over, let’s go to some lighter stuff-- oh! Tickets for the Pep Rally next week are goin’ on sale today at lunch in the quad, and as your star wide receiver, I’m ordering all of you to go out and buy as many as you can, alright? We need your support if we’re wanna kick AIM Academy’s ass. Go Avengers, rah rah rah! So find School Council rep Pepper Potts for your tickets, ASAP._ ”

“I think I hear footsteps, man. Fury’s gonna fucking murder us, holy shit,” Bucky says, but the grin plastered on his face matches Steve’s own as they watch their friend continue.

“ _Next on the list-- and this one’s for us juniors-- college application time’s creepin’ up, so be sure to drop by Professor Xavier’s class for a waiver or two, or ten. I don’t know, however many we can get. Applications ain’t free, but don’t let that stop you, ‘yeah? And now... okay, alright, check this out, it says here,_ ” Sam waves a paper around, even though there’s no one around to see him, “ _that we’re havin’ chicken tenders and tater tots for lunch! Bless those cafeteria ladies, I love chicken tenders. And brownies for dessert, so ya’ll better get there before the team does._ ”

Sam finally turns to Steve, and gives him a thumbs up. “ _And I guess that’s it for this mornin’, folks, but before we go, I’ve got a friend sitting right here, and he has something he wants to say._ ”

Steve spares his friends one last glance, then squares his shoulders and leans in to the mic. “ _Mornin’, everyone_ ,” he says, and rubs the back of his head bashfully. He can’t remember the last time he felt this shy. “ _This is Steve Rogers. I’m, uh, sorry for the interruption--_ ”

“Don’t apologize, ya moron,” Bucky groans, and Sam doubles over in laughter, his cackles no doubt echoing in every room throughout the school.

“ _There’s just-- there’s just somethin’ I’ve been dyin’ to do and... well, go big or go home, right, Shellhead?_ ”

He feels a warm, friendly pat on his shoulder, and takes a deep breath. “ _So, in case it’s not clear, I’m here to ask my best friend... Tony Stark, would you like to go to prom with me?_ ”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Bucky and Sam bump fists, but the relief he feels in his chest almost drowns out everything else. “ _Um, obviously you can’t, uh, give me your answer right now, but I reckon it won’t be long before someone-- oh, they’re here_ ,” he says, looking over his shoulder to meet the dark, unimpressed eyes of Vice Principal Coulson through the glass door. “ _Meet me outside the front office whenever you’re free? And Principal Fury, Parker had nothing to do with this so_ pleasedon’tpunishhimplease--” Sam jerks him away from the mic with a tug at Steve’s sleeve.

“Let’s go, lover boy,” he says, and Steve feels his cheeks burn as Bucky lets out a heaving sigh before opening the door.

“Gentlemen,” Coulson says calmly.

All three of them straighten their back just a little bit. “Mr. Coulson.”

“Interesting morning we’ve had, don’t you think?” Coulson asks, and then holds up a hand when Sam opens his mouth. “Don’t answer that, Wilson. I’ve already informed Ms. Storm that you’ll all be late for Biology, so kindly turn that thing off and follow me, please.”

“Yes, Mr. Coulson,” they mumble, but when they leave the room, Steve only feels the warm tendrils of anticipation.

\- - - - -

"Your mom's gonna be pissed."

Steve looks up from his fiddling hands at the warm, comfortingly familiar sound of Tony's voice, and feels his heart skip a beat when their eyes meet. He's on his feet a second later, feeling more nervous about him being there than he is about the conversation Mr. Coulson's currently having with his Ma on the other side of the door beside him.

"Hi," he breathes. 

Tony shakes his head. "You're batshit crazy, you meatball."

"Tony--"

"Where's Barnes and Wilson?"

"Coulson already called home for 'em, so they're back in second period," Steve replies. "Which is where you should be, too."

Tony scoffs. "If you thought I was gonna do anything but find you after the stunt you just pulled..."

"I woulda waited," Steve says, willing himself to not fidget. "I don't want ya to miss class--"

"I'd skip the whole damn day for you, Rogers," Tony says softly, and the faint blush on his cheeks has Steve completely enchanted. "And I didn't wanna keep you waiting for my answer."

Steve almost holds his breath. " _Oh_... So, um..." 

"Hell of a way to put yourself out there." Tony takes a step toward him, and then another, until he has to tilt his head up to look at Steve. "Wanna clue me in on why you chose to ask me like that?"

Steve reaches out until his hand finds Tony’s. "Because I'd be the happiest fella if you went with me, and I don't care if the whole school knows. But it's... look, it's okay if you don't want to, or if-- if maybe you'd rather go with someone else--"

"Like hell I would," Tony says, the firmness of his voice at odds with the tender, utterly gorgeous smile on his face. 

Steve longs to know what it tastes like, but he will his body to stay still. "Is that..."

Tony nods. "That's a yes. Yes, I'll go to prom with you, sunshine."

"Shit," Steve breathes. "Really?"

"Don't know why you're so surprised," Tony laughs, his hand warm in Steve's.

"I didn't wanna get my hopes up."

"But you hijacked the AV room anyway?"

"To be fair, I'd do a hell of a lot more for you," Steve admits. 

"Like I said," Tony chuckles, and leans up on his tiptoes to brush his lips against Steve's cheek. "Batshit crazy."

Steve can only close his eyes and revel in the feeling of having the brunet so close. 

"Your mom's gonna be pissed, though."

"She already knew. I told her last night."

"And she didn't try to stop you?" Tony pulls away. 

Steve shakes his head, even though all he wants to do is follow those lips. "She knows you're worth it,” he says, and feels his chest grow warm when Tony’s smile softens.


	80. The one where... Steve makes Tony’s day a little bit better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #5: “Cuddle with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Cuddle with me?”

Steve looks up from his sketchbook with a smile, eyes eagerly moving in the direction of Tony’s voice, only to frown when he finally sees the brunet. “What’s wr–”

“Cuddle with me?” Tony asks again, the words softer and more hesitant this time. Even from across the room, Steve can see that every inch of his body is tense as a live wire, fists clenched tightly at his side.

But it’s the look on his face that quickly brings Steve to his feet, the desperate gleam in his eyes and the almost imperceptible quivering of his lips sending a surge of sudden protectiveness straight to Steve’s gut. “C’mere,” is all he says, and only grows more concerned when Tony lets out a relieved sigh and all but runs to him.

Neither of them say anything as Steve settles them both into the couch, pulling Tony close as they lie from end to end. He splays one hand on the small of Tony’s back, runs the other up and down his spine, and presses his lips against the other man’s temple.

Seconds continue to pass silently– broken only by the faint sound of their breathing and the soft rustle of fabric every time one of them makes even the smallest of moments– but eventually, Tony lets out a deep sigh.

“Sorry,” he whispers against Steve’s shoulder.

“Tony–”

“Y’were probably…” he tightens his grip around a fistful of Steve’s shirt. “I didn’t mean to just barge in and interrupt–”

“You didn’t–”

Tony shakes his head. “I just…”

“Hey, hey,” Steve brings a hand to tip Tony’s chin up, and offers a tiny smile when their eyes meet. “It’s okay. You didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Steve–”

“And you’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

Tony looks ready to argue, but Steve bops his nose before he can, chuckling when Tony wrinkles it a second later. “What was that for?”

“Just felt like it,” Steve replies, before pulling him just a little bit closer.

“I think I needed that,”Tony mumble. “I needed… God, I just needed to come home.” His voice breaks on the last word, and just like that, the silence sobers up again.

“What’s wrong, huh?”

“I’m so fucking _tired_ ,” is all he says, and Steve…

Steve just holds him.

\- - - - -

The next time Tony speaks, the sky above New York City’s already grown dark, and the only light bathing the room is coming from the lamp in the hallway and the movie playing on the screen in front of them. Steve knows he’s been awake the whole time– every once in a while, he’d run a thumb over one of Steve’s fingernails, over his knuckles and the pulse of his wrist– but Steve’d been happy to just hold him all the while.

He still is.

“Penny for your thoughts, big guy?”

Steve looks down at Tony, and is relieved when all he can find in his eyes is fond amusement. “Only a penny?”

Tony’s lips quirk into a small but honest smile. “You’re right. They’re worth a hell of a lot more.”

“Especially when they’re about you, Shellhead,” Steve replies, and watches with rapt attention as the brunet’s cheeks flush a soft, gorgeous shade of pink.

“Tryin’ to make me feel better?”

“Always. But that doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

“You’re crazy,” Tony says, barely meeting Steve’s eyes. “And I can’t believe you let me stay here all this time.”

“I’d do a hell of a lot more for you.”

Tony buries his head back into Steve’s chest. “Why?”

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, and breathes through the pang in his chest. “Because you’re my best friend. Because I get tired too sometimes, and on those days… you always make it better. Because you’re the first person– you’re the only person I think about when I think of home.”

“Yeah?” Tony asks, voice small and brittle, and Steve wants to hurt every person who’s ever made him feel that way. 

“You betcha, Shellhead.”

“It’s…” Tony clears his throat. “I know I’m shit at saying… things. But I’m… Well, I’m here. And it’s… better.”

Steve feels dizzy from relief, from the sheer amount of love he feels for this man, and can’t help the kiss he presses to Tony’s soft, tousled hair, only managing a strangled “good”.

“Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“I can hear your stomach grumbling.”

“Sorry.”

Tony shakes his head, and when he looks up, Steve pretends he can’t see how his eyes are just the slightest bit wet. “Dinner on me?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“As long as it’s delivery, though, ‘cause I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty comfortable where I am.”

“Speak for yourself,” Steve teases. “You’re not the one with the limpet on top of ya.”

“You ass,” Tony grumbles, even as his mouth is turned up at the corners. “If you wanted me to move, all you had to do was say so.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll stay here all night, Winghead.”

“Can’t think of anything better,” Steve says, and smiles when Tony just pulls them closer together.


	81. The one where... Tony and Steve have a snowball fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #6: “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-- goddammit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-- _goddammit_!”

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I’m gonna get you, you fucker!”

Steve lifts a bold eyebrow. “Watch it, Stark, or the next one’ll be right in the kisser.”

His lips are quirked up into a grin as bright as his cheeks are ruddy, and Tony only just manages to keep the groan of want building up in his throat. Instead, he picks up a handful of snow and starts packing it into a ball. “You caught me by surprise, you ass-- it won’t happen again.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Loser buys dinner?”

Steve nods, pushing his Iron Man beanie off his head to ruffle his sweat-matted hair, eyes never leaving Tony’s. “You know my usual at Angie’s, right?”

“Doesn’t matter, since we’ll be having Indian,” Tony smirks, chest warm with contentment.

“In your dreams, genius.”

“Baby, you have _no_ idea.”

Steve rolls his eyes even as Tony can see his cheeks grow even warmer. “You ready? I’ll stand still, if it helps.”

“Oh my god,” Tony mutters through his smile, “shut up.”

“Make me,” Steve says, and then lets out a whoop as the game begins anew.

\- - - - -

“Tony--”

“No--”

“Come on--”

“Don’t talk to me,” Tony grumbles, but doesn’t pull away from Steve when the blond wraps an arm around his shoulders as they make their way through the thinly crowded Brooklyn street.

“I didn’t do it on purpose--” Steve starts, but then sighs when Tony looks up to glare at him. “Well, I didn’t do it on purpose the second time.”

“Oh, really?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna move! It wasn’t supposed to hit you in the face!”

Tony doesn’t cuddle into Steve’s chest. He doesn’t. “You could’ve blinded me, you lug.”

“I said I was sorry,” Steve mumbles, and almost gives Tony a heart attack when he reaches up to brush his fingers against Tony’s cheekbone. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Just a little red,” Tony replies, more than a little breathless. “But I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Let me guess-- chicken tikka masala?”

“Got it in one.”

Steve narrows his eyes at him, and then sighs. “Fine.”

“You’re so easy, Rogers,” Tony laughs, but leans up smack a kiss on the blond’s cheek.

“But only because it’s almost Christmas, alright?”

“It’s the least you could do.”

“Oh shut it, before I change my mind and tell my Ma you can’t stay over for winter break.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“And why not?”

“Because your mom loves me.”

“God knows why,” Steve grumbles, and then yelps out a laugh when Tony elbows him in the chest. “I’m feelin’ a little less sorry about that snowball now.”

“No you’re not.”

“...I’m not.”

Tony grins. “See? Easy.”

“Only when it comes to you, Shellhead,” Steve pulls him closer. “Hey, Tony...”

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy?”

Tony nuzzles into Steve’s shoulder, and doesn’t even hesitate. “You bet I am.”

“Good.”

“Are you?”

Steve presses a kiss to his hair, his reply warm against Tony’s temple. “Never been happier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE! <3<3<3


	82. The one where... Steve shoots Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #7: “Please don’t do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Please don’t do this.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Tony pleads, but Steve’s hand keeps his weapon steadily aimed at Tony’s chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re n-- _don’t you dare_.”

“I have to,” Steve says, and pulls the trigger.

“You bastard,” Tony sputters, looking down at his now drenched t-shirt, droplets of ice cold water running down his chest. “You fucking _ass_.”

Steve just lifts his arms up in victory. “I win!”

“Nice to know you wouldn’t hesitate to end my life if you had to.”

“Simmer down, Shellhead,” Steve rolls his eyes as he flings himself at Tony, dumping his water gun to wrap his arms around him. “Youd’a done the same thing and you know it.”

“Would _not_ ,” Tony insists, almost stumbling over the weight of the blond as they walk towards the rest of the team.

Steve gives him the side eye. “Tony.”

“Get off me.”

“Tony.”

“Why are you so fucking heavy, Jesus--”

Steve’s lips quirk up. “ _Tonyyyyyyy_.”

“Okay, fine... I’d have shot you too, you meatball,” Tony grumbles, even as his smile grows to match Steve’s. 

“You guys know we stopped playing, like, ten minutes ago, right?” Clint calls out from his spot by the grill.

“Thanks for telling Mr. Gun-ho over here,” Tony jerks his thumb at Steve, who just presses a kiss to his temple, flushing at the knowing looks the team gives each other. 

“Rockin’ the wet t-shirt look though, Stark,” Natasha says, walking past them with a bowl of fruit salad she sets down on the large patio table already teeming with food.

“You know it, baby,” he waggles his eyebrows, but then feels his heart skip a beat when Steve buries his head under Tony’s jaw. “What is it now?” he asks gently.

“’m tired.”

“So go sit down.”

“ _Tony_.”

“What?” he chuckles, suddenly breathless from the feel of Steve’s lips brushing his neck.

“ _With me._ ”

“Want me to sit with you?”

“ _Uh huh_.”

Barnes shakes his head as he sips his beer. “You’re ridiculous, punk,” he says, and then laughs when Steve flips him off without lifting his head.

“Come on, then,” Tony manages to wrestle them both into an empty lounge chair, focusing on the small crowd around him to keep his heart beat steady as Steve stays plastered to his side.

“ _Burgers are ready!_ ”

“ _Rhodes, go get more beer-- and make it the good kind this time, will you?_ ”

“ _Wilson, stop picking the watermelon from the salad!_ ”

“Are you gonna let me get a burger, big guy?” he asks Steve, but the blond shakes his head. “Steve--”

“ _No_.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I just...” Steve finally looks up, nose brushing Tony’s jaw with every breath he takes. “It’s been a while since we’ve been able to relax like this.”

“Well, y’know, _c’est la vie_ ,” Tony replies. “Beggars can’t be choosers, and all. Not that we’re begging for villains and monsters and shit, but... honestly, this month’s been a _bitch_.”

“It has. And I’ve missed you.”

Tony feels his body warm all over. “Back atcha, Winghead.”

Steve’s eyes, already big and blue and unbearably beautiful, widen happily. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, breathless as he so often is when it comes to this man. 

"That's awfully good to know. You're always the best part of my day."

 _And you're mine_ , Tony wants to say; he wants it so much, it almost hurts. But instead, he just lets his lips quirk up into a soft, rare smile.

"Hey lovebirds!" This time, it's Rhodey calling them. "Food's going fast, so get your asses up and over here!"

"You hungry?" Steve asks.

Tony closes his eyes, leans back against the chair. "I can wait. There's no rush," he says, and for now, it's the truth.


	83. The one where... Tony has no regrets, and in the end, neither does Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #8: “I cannot believe you just did that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I cannot believe you just did that.”

“Believe it, stud muffin.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Yes, darling?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn’t pull away from Tony’s embrace. “I cannot believe you just bought our daughter a cat.”

“Okay, but look, baby. Point one: she wanted one--”

“She said she wanted a castle last week, Tony, but you didn’t go and get her that, did you?”

Tony looks thoughtful for a moment, and then shrugs. “She didn’t really mean that, though.”

“Sweetheart--”

“And there was no fucking way she’d enjoy that as much as she’d enjoy this,” he jerks his head in the direction of all the noise and the commotion, and sure enough, when Steve’s eyes find his baby’s, he smiles at the pure, unadulterated happiness he sees there.

“Papa!”

“Yeah, doll baby?” he asks

“Papa, kitty!” their daughter squeals, proudly holding up the wriggling, purring bundle of white fur as she skips around the living room.

“I see it, honey.”

“Daddy, look! Cat, cat, cat, cat! Cat, cat, cat,” she sings, golden curls bouncing with every excited step she takes. The sight warms Steve’s heart like few things ever have, and when he sneaks a glance at his husband, the bright, happy look in his eyes tells Steve he feels the same too.

“I see it, _bella_. I’m the one that brought it here, remember? Now, bring it over, pretty please.”

“‘Kay,” she replies, and waves the kitten while making airplane noises the whole way there. “Daddy?”

“Yes, _tesoro_?”

“Wassit’s name?”

Tony lets go of Steve with a kiss to his jaw, and crouches down before their daughter. “Well, see, he doesn’t actually have a name.”

Blue eyes-- Steve’s eyes, his Ma’s eyes-- widen in distress. “Why not?”

“Because Papa thought you’d like to name him,” Tony replies, looking over his shoulder to wink at Steve.

“Wanna name cat, Papa?”

“It’s alright, baby,” he smiles, kneeling down until they’re all at eye level. “Go ahead and pick a name. Whatever you want.”

“Hmmmm,” Bella brings the kitten up until their noses are all but touching, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. The kitten blinks back, and squirms around her tiny hands. “I like... Cat.”

“You sure, princess?” Tony asks, even as Steve sees him holding back a smile.

“Uh huh,” their daughter nods decisively. “ _Catcatcat_. Y’like Cat, Papa?”

“It’s perfect,” Steve says, and feels his smile grow into a grin at her happy cheers.

“Alright, pumpkin,” Tony pats his thighs. “Auntie Pep and Uncle Agent are gonna be here soon with Cat’s bed and all his toys, so you get to pick where you want him to sleep, yes?”

“‘Kay, Daddy,” she nods, and marches back across the room with a twirl of her blue Princess dress skirts. “Cat, d’wanna play wif my dolls?”

“ _Mmrreow_!”

“‘Kay, y’can have Ms. Marvel...”

“Tony.”

“Yeah, honey bunch?”

Steve waits until Tony’s eyes are back on his. “We’re gonna have to talk with her about taking care of him.”

“Yep, all covered,” Tony says confidently. “I bought books.”

“Really?”

Tony nods, and leans over to press their lips together. “We’re set, babe. Trust me.”

“You know I do,” Steve replies, and relishes the warmth of Tony’s body as he leans back in to kiss Steve again. It’s slow and deep and utterly tender, Steve’s favorite kind, and he makes sure he pours as much love as he can into every second of it.

“God, I fucking love you,” Tony rasps when he finally pulls away, eyes bright with emotion.

“I know,” Steve replies, smirking when his husband rolls his eyes and swats at his shoulder lazily.

“Well, _that_ moment’s over.”

“I’ll make it up to you later.”

“I’m holding you to that, Captain,” Tony winks, before rising back to his feet. “But right now, all I want to do is spend the rest of my day with Little Miss Sunshine and Mr. Cat, so come on, chop chop.”

“Yes, dear,” Steve mutters, and revels in the feeling of being home.


	84. The one where... what happens in Vegas better NOT just stay in Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #9: “Well... this is awkward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Well... this is awkward.”

“Pep, Pepper pot--”

“Frankly, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long.”

“Hey, wh--”

“So,” Pepper sighs, stepping past Tony and into the main room of the Caesar’s Palace Presidential Suite. “Where is he?”

Tony just points to the doors across the room. “Pep--”

“I’ve got Chris and the legal team on hold,” she points to the bluetooth speaker attached to her ear, and then gently sets her folder and bag on the table by the lavish chaise lounge. “Neither of us are leaving until he gives us the get go, is that clear?”

“Peachy,” he replies, quirking his lips into that charming grin that’s always made its many recipients weak at the knees.

He wonders if it’d make St--

“Well, is he going to hide in there all day, or are you going to introduce us?”

Tony feels his grin soften. “He’s a little shy.”

“Doesn’t sound your type.”

“Just wait till you see him, Potts.”

Pepper rolls her eyes. “I’m sure he’s a looker.”

Tony just keeps smiling, and tries to ignore the nerves fluttering in his stomach like butterflies as he walks up to the bedroom doors and knocks. “Hey, uh... You can come on out here, big guy.”

“ _...Tony?_ ”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replies, just as the door slides open and he’s treated to the most gorgeous blue eyes he’s ever seen. “Hi, there.”

“Hi.”

“So, uh,” Tony looks over his shoulder, jerking his thumb in Pepper’s direction. “This is Pepper Potts. Ex-PA, current CEO of Stark Industries. Pep... this is Steve Rogers. My husband.”

\- - - - -

“Do you mean to tell me,” Pepper says slowly, hands on her hips as she stares at the two of them incredulously, “that neither of you remember how you ended up with those rings on your fingers?”

“To be fair,” Tony points out, “I only had three drinks over at The Venetian.”

“God, I don’t know if that makes things better,” Pepper says. “If that’s all it took for you to run off and get married to a...” she waves at Steve. “Sorry, what do you do?”

“I’m a firefighter, ma’am. In Brooklyn, New York.”

“That’s so hot,” Tony mutters, grinning when the blond blushes as he squirms in his seat.

Pepper glares at him. “ _Tony._ ”

“Sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Steve stands up, shoulders hunched in trepidation. “Look, I know it might not mean anythin’--”

“Steve--”

“But I do take full responsibility--”

“Like hell,” Tony shakes his head. “Takes two to tango, Rogers. And really, Pep, can anyone blame me for wanting to get tied to _that_?” He points to Steve, who fidgets where he stands even as a tiny, pretty smile blooms on his face.

He’s so beautiful, it almost hurts to look at him.

“Well, I certainly can’t blame you,” Pepper says, lips quirked up into an amused smile.

Steve just nods, cheeks still dusted with pink. “Ma’am.”

“But the fact remains-- oh, hold on a sec,” she presses a hand to the bluetooth. “Chris? No, we’re still here. Yes, all of us...”

She moves away looking somewhere between annoyed and apologetic, leaving Tony alone with Steve.

With his _husband_ , he remembers, and can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles out of him, as uncontrollable and hysterical as he feels.

“Are you okay?” He barely hears Steve ask him, then feels the couch he’s on dip a little as the blond sits back down next to him.

“Peachy,” he manages to breathe out. “It’s not every day I get married, y’know.”

“I know the feelin’,” Steve nods. The smile on his face makes something warm settle in Tony’s chest. “Sorry about, um, before...”

“You mean when you pushed me off the bed and ran to the bathroom?”

Steve’s cheeks flush yet again. “Yeah, I-- I feel awful about it.”

“No worries, gorgeous. The bump on my head was worth the view you gave me.”

“Are you always this--”

“Shameless? Yeah, you’ll get used to it,” Tony says, and immediately wishes he could take them back because _what the fuck?_ “Um, I, uh, I meant--” he stutters, heartbeat echoing in his ears as Steve’s eyes-- ocean wide and absolutely perfect-- snap to his.

_Shit._

“It’s okay,” Steve finally says, and then shocks Tony by letting out a soft, low laugh of his own. “So I’m your first, huh?”

Tony ignores the hitch in his breath at the sound as he grins. “Yes, sir. So tell me,” he leans back into the indecently comfortable couch cushions, and feels a thrill of anticipation when Steve mirrors the movement. “What’s it like to be Mr. Tony Stark?”

“Well, I’ve got a hangover and I’m missing my phone, so...”

“You’re off to a good start then, gorgeous,” Tony winks.

“Well, no matter what happens today, at least we have that, right?”

Tony nods, and even though he can still hear Pepper running damage control across the room-- even though he can feel uncertainty and apprehension clouding his mind-- when he catches sight of the gleaming band around his ring finger, he welcomes the soft, warm tendrils of anticipation.


	85. The one where... Tony gets a well-deserved reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #10: “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

“You better be, because I’m not doing this by myself.”

Steve’s finger tighten around Tony’s. “You sure, sweetheart? Because there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting a couple of minutes with...”

“With my mom?” Tony asks, and god, the word still feels strange in his mouth. Really, he should’ve known something like this would happen eventually.

“Tony?”

“Wh-- I’m fine, babe,” he nods, leaning up to press a kiss to Steve’s jaw. A part of him wants to run the fuck away, to scream and rage because damn it, this shouldn’t be possible, this is the last wound he needs reopened.

But all of that... it’s no match for the part of him that wants to open those doors and run into the arms of the only person he’s ever loved unconditionally. 

Well, one of two, now.

“I’m okay,” he says again, looking up into concerned baby blues. “Just... come with me. I’m sure.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve gives him a lazy salute, his grin sending a flash of warmth through Tony.

Which is probably the only reason he doesn’t fall apart the second they enter the room and meet bright green eyes.

“ _Antonio_?”

“Shit,” Tony blurts, breath catching in his throat as he’s suddenly only feet away from his mother, from the first time in years. “Shit, fuck, _shit_.”

“Language,” Steve mumbles from right behind him, and Tony glares at him over his shoulder with blurry eyes.

“Antonio, is it... is it really you?”

“Hi, mom,” he chokes out, and feels his lips tremble as he smiles.

“Oh my god... _Bambino_ ,” she sighs, walking carefully towards them. “Antonio, what’s-- what’s going on? They... Oh, they told me, and I just couldn’t believe it. The future?”

Tony nods.

“And you...” she reaches up to touch his cheek, and it takes Tony everything he has to keep the tears from falling. “ _Tesoro_ , you’re so...”

“Old?”

His mother shakes her head. “Handsome. So handsome, my goodness. Come,” she gestures at the sofa along the wall. “Tell me all about you--”

“Mom, there’s...” Tony glances over at Steve. “There’s someone you, uh, should probably meet.”

“Steve Rogers,” she says, voice suddenly cool, and oh, Tony remembers that look. “I know who you are.”

“Ma’am,” Steve nods, stepping out from behind Tony to hold out his hand, as steady as the look in his eyes.

“So, Howard finally found you.”

Steve looks at Tony, and then back at her. “No, ma’am,” he says, and Tony wonders if she notices how Steve moves just a little bit closer to him. “Your son did.”

“Well, that probably should not make me as happy as it does,” she replies with a smile, “but you’ll understand if I don’t feel particularly sorry about that.”

Steve surprises Tony-- and his mom too, probably-- by laughing. “I know the feeling, ma’am.”

“Call me Maria, please. The only person who still calls me ma’am is Edwin Jarvis. Tell me, Antonio, is he still around?”

Tony shakes his head. “Mom, I can’t-- we can’t talk about that. Time travel--tricky bitch.”

His mother smiles. “No, I don’t know,” she chuckles, “but it’s alright, in any case. As long as you’re here, I’m right as rain.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Steve asks. “I can get some water, or coffee?”

“I’m quite alright, Captain,” she says softly. “Come sit with me, Antonio.”

Tony does, and manages to not fiddle with his hands. “What year is it, back home?”

“Seventy five,” she says. “Do you remember what you were like when you were four?”

“Barely. Hard to forget ice cream in Central Park, though.”

His mom’s eyes grow soft. “It’s my favorite thing to do. You’re going through a little ‘no’ phase right now too, though. Most stubborn little soul I’ve ever met.”

“Sorry to say that hasn’t changed much.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, _bambino_ ,” she says, smile growing to a grin, and Tony can’t stop looking at her. She’s younger than he can ever remember her being, but just as beautiful as ever. “And are you... are you happy, darling?”

Tony scoffs. “Really?”

She holds his hand between her own. “What else would I care about, hm? Now tell me-- and no lying, please. I can always tell when you’re lying.”

Tony takes a deep breath, and nods. “Happier than I ever thought I could be.”

“That’s all I want for you,” his mom says. “I love you so much, baby.”

“Me too,” he rasps, and the pain in his chest is almost bearable. “I n-need you to remember that, mom. I’m going to fuck up--”

“Antonio--”

“-- I’m going to say things and _Mama_ , I don’t mean any of it, I swear--”

His mom pulls him close, and cups his face. “Listen to me: no matter what you do, no matter what you say,” she says fiercely. Her eyes are blazing even as they burn with tears. “Anthony Edward Stark, I will always love you, do you hear me?”

Tony can only nod.

“And no matter what your father says-- no, listen,” she continues, when every part of his body screams at him to bolt. “You have _always_ been good enough. Baby...” she says softly, “you’ll always be more than enough.”

“Mom...”

“Whatever happens-- good, bad-- I don’t ever want you to forget that.”

“I won’t,” Tony promises. 

“I believe you, _bambino_ ,” she replies, and pulls away with a kiss to his forehead. “Now dry those tears, because I refuse to spend all my time here crying. Won’t you tell me how you are?”

“Y’know...” Steve cuts in softly. “If we’re careful, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

“If only America could hear you now,” Tony mutters, but as he settles down more comfortably between the two people he loves most in the world, he knows there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing.


	86. The one where... Steve’s always there, even when he’s not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #11: “If you die, I’m going to kill you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“If you die, I’m going kill you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want that, so I’ll try not to.”

Tony tries and fails to ignore the lump in his throat. “Steve...”

“Hey, hey,” Steve moves closer, tipping Tony’s chin up until their eyes meet. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Tony lies. “I’m all good, big guy.” From the corner of his eye, he can see Barnes, Romanoff, and Barton waiting by the elevators-- in their uniforms, they look more intimidating than ever-- and so he steps back even though all he wants to do is press his chest to the blond’s. There’s an all-too familiar wave of panic threatening to take over him that, on any other day-- on any other mission-- he’d brush off with an easy smile and a sharp quip.

But this is HYDRA.

This is his team... _Steve_... going dark for God knows how long.

“Tony--”

“I’m good, I’m fine,” he nods, patting Steve’s shoulder with a practiced grin. “Go get ‘em, tiger, yeah?”

“You bet we will,” Steve says seriously, and before Tony can say anything else, pulls him back in to kiss his temple. “I’m going to miss you, Shellhead,” he whispers into Tony’s hair.

“Back atcha, Winghead,” is all Tony can say. He closes his eyes, breathes in the clean, surprisingly woodsy scent of Steve’s uniform, and then moves away. “Now chop chop. I’ve got a company to run and you’re just taking up all my time-- really, Rogers, you’re a menace.”

“Wait till I tell Miss Potts that.”

“Empty threats, Cap,” Tony replies, and then holds his breath as Steve deftly swings his shield onto his back and walks to the rest of the team as they shuffle into the main elevator. “Go kick ass,” he tells Romanoff. “Take names,” he says to Barnes, “and you...” he grins at Barton, “just go.”

The last thing he sees before the doors close is Barton sticking his tongue out at him, and Steve’s bright, amused blue eyes as he laughs.

And then, just like that, he’s alone.

\- - - - -

He finds the first note later that night.

Pepper’d arrived only minutes after the team had left-- with a thick folder and a determined gleam in her eye that’d had Tony sighing in defeat before she’d even said a word-- and swept him off to SI for, in her words, a much needed “business day”.

Now, hours later, Tony’s decided not to go down without a fight next time.

The tower feels empty in a way he immediately hates, even though his brain reminds him it’s anything but-- Sam, Wanda, Bruce, and Rhodey are still around, and he knows he’ll see them all at some point of the day. He fires off a quick pizza order to JARVIS-- not his usual, because he only eats that with Steve-- as he reaches his workshop, and it doesn’t take long for him to get lost in the numbers, the calculations and the equations, which is probably why he almost misses the bright blue sticky note clinging to DUM-E.

It’s not until after he comes back in with a pizza box on his arm that he spots it, and he almost drops his food when he recognizes the handwriting-- neat, slightly slanted, but undoubtedly elegant.

Steve.

Tony feels his heart skip one beat, then another, but he reaches out and takes the note with a steady hand.

_Hiya, Shellhead!_

_Please don’t forget to eat dinner, okay? There’s still some leftover Spaghetti in the refrigerator, but the choice is yours._

_I miss you already,_

_Steve :)_

_P.S. If this is still sticking to Dummy when you find it, give him a high five from me!_

“Meatball,” Tony mutters when he looks up from the note, but he can feel the smile on his face when he gives DUM-E’s claw a pat.

He doesn’t throw the note away.

\- - - - -

Tony puts it off as a one time thing, but it’s not even a whole day before he finds another-- this one, stuck to his bathroom mirror.

_If you’re:_

_Just waking up-- good morning! Take a shower, brush your teeth, go SAVE THE WORLD! :)_

_Goin’ to bed-- good night. Take a shower, brush your teeth, and GET SOME SLEEP? Please?_

_I miss you,_

_Steve_

It warms Tony’s chest just as much as the first note did, and when he puts it in his pocket as he leaves his room, he feels something close to anticipation.

\- - - - -

The notes keep coming.

The days go by, one after the other, and Tony runs his side of the world-- SI business, SHIELD business, Avengers business, everything-- with a familiar ease that manages to keep the worry and longing to a bearable degree. He ends up eating dinner with the team more often than not, surprisingly, and falls into bed only when his body decides it’s not willing to pull through for him anymore.

And through it all, Steve fucking Rogers never fails to stay far from his head.

 _Damn him_ , Tony thinks fondly, as he finds yet another bright blue sticky tacked on to one of his suits.

_Remember to rest every once in a while, Tony. And remember that we appreciate EVERYTHING you do._

_I miss you,_

_Steve :)_

But as hard as it is to believe, those aren’t his favorites.

Because as the days turn to weeks and Steve’s mission keeps them away, Tony starts finding other kinds of notes that leave his cheeks burning and his heart racing:

_I like the way you ramble in Italian when you’re frustrated._

_I miss you,_

_Steve_

\- - -

_One of my favorite things to do is watch you play with the bots._

_I miss you,_

_Steve_

\- - -

_You were a hero long before you were Iron Man._

_I miss you._

\- - -

_I miss home. I miss you._

_Steve_

Tony keeps them all, and has to breathe through the longing every single one of them brings.

\- - - - -

"I thought I'd find you here."

It takes Tony an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize who the voice he's just heard belongs to, but once he does, it takes everything in him not to scramble out from underneath the top half of his Iron Man suit. Instead, he takes a breath to try to calm the sudden pounding of his heart. "What, did you want me to be waiting at the door?"

"No, even if it did take me longer to see ya."

Tony smiles up at the wrangled piece of metal above him before sliding out, and then--

"Hi.” The words falls from his lips like a sigh, soft and shy and so fucking relieved, it's almost pathetic.

"Hiya back,” Steve smiles, exactly like he did eleven weeks ago. He's wearing his stealth suit, hair slightly matted with sweat and what looks like dirt, but he's still the most beautiful thing Tony's ever seen.

"When, uh, when'd you get here?”

"About an hour ago,” Steve replies, and Tony's surprised to see his fingers fiddling with his cowl.

"You debrief?”

"No. I had more important things to do first.”

"Oh," is all Tony can say, cheeks burning like they only ever seem to do when Steve's involved.

"I missed you,” Steve tells him, and just like that, Tony feels his body relax.

"I know,” he says. “You never let me forget it."

Steve's smile grows into Tony's favorite grin. "So you got 'em, huh?"

"All fifty seven of them, you sap. I don't know how I put up with you."

"Well, I've got one more," Steve reaches into a belt pocket and takes out a rumpled, slightly faded blue sticky note.

"Steve, you don’t...” Tony shakes his head, but the blonde just holds out his hand, and Tony takes the paper quickly to hide his trembling fingers.

_I’m only home when I’m with you._

“I missed you too, y’know,” he rasps, looking back up to meet those blue, blue eyes, and when Steve pulls him into his arms, Tony feels happier than he has in days.


	87. The one where... Steve gets sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #12: “You’re adorable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You’re adorable.”

“Tony--”

“Nope, shut up. Just sit there and look pretty, baby.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Yes, sunshine?”

“...Can I get another tissue, please?”

Tony resists the urge to coo at his bed-ridden husband, and tosses him the tissue box instead. “Yes, sir,” he says. “And remember to stay in your bubble. I don’t want your super soldier flu killing me.”

“Gee,” Steve deadpans. “Thanks.”

He looks so sad, Tony can’t help but laugh. “I kid, babe, I kid.”

“You’re probably right, though,” Steve says gloomily. “The last thing I want is to get you sick, too.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Tony says, plopping down leisurely on the bed. “If you think I’m leaving you today--”

“No, Tony--”

“Zip it, mister. Promised to stick with you in sickness and in health and all that crap, right?” Tony asks.

Steve’s eyes, already bright and slightly wet from his fever, soften with emotion. “I love you so much,” he rasps.

“Back atcha, stud,” Tony replies instantly. “Snotty nose and everything.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve sighs, dabbing at his nose a second later. His hair is slightly sweaty and tousled from sleep, but he’s still the most beautiful man Tony’s ever seen.

“Don’t apologize, honey bunny. Now tuck those gorgeous arms back under the covers and go the fuck to sleep, okay?”

“But I’m not tired.”

“Babe, it’s not like you’re gonna do anything else today,” Tony points out. “You’re sure as hell not leaving this room.”

Steve bites his lip thoughtfully, and then widens his eyes a moment later. “Can we watch a movie?”

“Sure we can, big guy. Whatever you want,” he says, and scoots just a little bit closer to Steve.

“ _Return of the King_?”

Tony sighs into his pillow, then smiles. “You heard the man, J. Start the show...”

\- - - - -

Steve’s asleep before Gandalf reaches Minas Tirith.

His breathing is slow and deep-- the way it always is, the way Tony always wants it to be-- but it’s also louder, and certainly more nasally than it has any business being. It’s not long before Tony abandons the movie and lets his eyes rest on a far more beautiful sight.

It’d been a shock when Steve’d come down with a fever late the night before, and Tony can still feel the tendrils of panic at the memory of the first touch of his hand against his husband’s forehead. It’d taken only Bruce’s calm, confident reassurance that it wasn’t life-threatening to soothe him again.

Well, that and Steve’s smile.

And now... He takes in the minuscule curve of Steve’s lips, the sweep of his long lashes, and feels love rush over him like a wave.

“I can always tell when you’re starin’ at me.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Tony says softly.

“Sure you weren’t.”

“Did I wake you?”

Steve shakes his head, face half buried into his pillow. “No. ’m just cold.”

His skin, when Tony touches it, is no less warm than before, and he rearranges the blankets around the blond with a tiny frown. “I’ve got you. Go back to sleep...”

Steve’s eyes are only a sliver of blue, but the love in them is unmissable. “Tony?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Thank you.”

Tony doesn’t hesitate to reply. “Anytime.”

\- - - - -

“I hate this.”

“Tough luck, cupcake. Gotta grin and bear it.”

“I’m tired of tea.”

“I know the feeling,” Tony coos. “Shit’s disgusting.”

“It’s not _that_ bad, Tony.”

“I’ll chalk that comment up to your delirium because really, babe...”

Steve’s laughter is slightly raspy, but after a full day of bed rest, it sounds considerably healthier than before. “Tryin’ to keep me sick, Mister Stark?”

Tony waggles his eyebrows. “Whatever it takes to keep you in my bed.”

“You don’t even have to try. I’d stay here forever if I could.”

“Jesus, why did I think it’d be a good idea to marry a sap?” Tony groans, but doesn’t pull away when Steve pulls him into his arms. “You’re killing me, hon.”

“I’m,” Steve kisses his cheek. “So,” then his mouth. “Sorry,” then his nose.

“No, you’re not,” Tony breathes, “You better not be.”

“How could I, when you take such good care of me?”

“Well, I do like playing Nurse.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his smile is as gorgeous as ever. “We’ll take care of each other, won’t we?”

“I’m sure as hell not doing this for anyone else.”

“So romantic.”

Tony winks. “You know it, baby.”

Steve blushes prettily, and then bites his lip. “Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Tony can’t help the grin that blooms on his face as his hand finds Steve’s. “I love you, too.”


	88. The one where... Tony welcomes Steve home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #13: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“Honey, if you think I ever need a reason to be naked in your bed, we’re clearly doing something wrong.”

Steve drops the shield on the floor with a thump, and wastes no time in climbing the bed and crawling atop the soft, cotton sheets covering Tony’s warm, delicious body. “Hi,” he says, smiling into the kiss he’s pulled down into.

“Hiya back, handsome,” Tony hums, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck to keep them close even after their kiss ends. “How was the mission? How’re you?”

“Just fine. But I’m much better now.”

Tony grins. “Good. I thought you’d like something nice to come home to.”

“As long as you’re the one I get to come home to,” Steve says, “I’ll be a happy fella.”

Tony rolls his eyes even as he runs a tender hand through Steve’s slightly sweaty hair. “God, I missed you,” he sighs. “So much. Sap and all.”

“Not more than I’ve missed you,” Steve replies, and feels his entire body grow warm when Tony’s eyes darken, smile turning lewd.

“Show me?”

“ _Gladly,_ ” Steve growls, and brings their lips together again.

\- - - - -

"I had a dream about you.”

“No you didn’t,” Tony looks up at Steve, scratchy chin resting on his chest.

The sheets are a mess around them, and as Steve holds the love of his life in his arms, the world beyond their bed seems the farthest it’s been in days. He takes in the faint sheen of sweat still lingering on Tony’s skin, the satisfied curve of his smile, and feels the words fall from his lips easily. “A couple of days ago, yeah. I dreamt that I was in art school, like back... before.”

“And?”

“Then you popped in right in the middle of class, and you just...” Steve’s shoulders start shaking as he chuckles. “You just started posing. You didn’t say a thing, and I... I think I was the only one in there confused about why you were suddenly just _there_.”

“Did we, y’know,” Tony waggles his eyebrows, “do anything?”

Steve feels a flush flood his cheeks. “No.”

“Well, that’s a bore.”

“But you smiled at me the whole time.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods. “My favorite smile... ah, there it is,” he says, when Tony’s lips quirk up in that particular way he loves so much, small and soft, but every bit as real as this thing between them is. “I could look at it all day. Could look at you all day.”

“Oh god, _stop_ ,” Tony muffles his face into Steve’s shoulder. “I always forget how fucking sappy you get after missions, Jesus...”

“Bucky said I was smilin’ when he woke me up. And blushing, too.”

Tony’s laughter sends shivers down Steve’s body. “And all because of me?”

“Always.”

“Is, um,” Tony traces random, nonsensical patterns on Steve’s chest. “Is going to art school-- is that something you, uh, y’know. Wanna do? Maybe?”

“I dunno,” Steve says, and then grins as he tightens his hold on Tony’s waist. “I’m pretty happy with what I’ve got right now.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Tony giggles. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind posing for you again. It’s always so much... _fun_.”

“You’re my favorite thing to dray, anyhow; I don’t think I’ll ever need anything else.”

Tony looks away. "How do you know?” he whispers.

“Because I love you.”

Tony lets out a shaky breath, and presses his lips to the skin above Steve’s heart. “I love you too, you meatball. So much.”

Steve closes his eyes, and breathes through the emotions running through him.

It’s good to be home.


	89. The one where... Steve wears a different kind of costume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #1: “I can never look at you the same way again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm interrupting your regularly scheduled programming to bring you MY DECEMBER CHRISTMAS PROMPTS! I'll be posting 'em all this month becausE CHRISTMAS! lmao things'll go back to normal in January, kay? :D Hope you like them!
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“I can never look at you the same way again.”

“Tony–”

“Wait, hold on, let me just…” Tony reaches to his back pocket and pulls out his phone, holding it out in front of him as he grins. “Say cheese!”

Steve feels his whole face grow warm, and has to stop himself from pulling at his costume. “C’mon…”

“Smile!”

Steve has to stop himself from doing that too. “ _Tony_ ,” he groans. “‘m gonna be late for my shift.”

“Then smile!” Tony laughs, and the sight of that gorgeous, familiar curve to his lips sends a familiar pang of longing down to Steve’s stomach. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re grumpy, Jesus Christ.”

“I dunno why I even called you,” he says, still glaring weakly as Tony proceeds to take photos of him from several angles.

“Because it’s your first day of work and I told you I’d be here to support you and _you’re wearing tights_ , Steve.”

“You knew I would.”

Tony puts his phone away, and moves closer until they’re inches away. “Well yeah, but this…” he waves his hand up and down Steve’s body, “is fucking awesome. Do your shoes jingle?”

Steve shuffles where he stands, and feels his heart skip a beat when Tony giggles at the faint jingling of the bells attached to his bright green shoes.

“Sh–shit,” Tony pants. “Oh god, that’s…” His words get lost as he doubles over in laughter again, and Steve can’t even find it in himself to be bothered by it. “You’re gonna make the best fucking Elf that mall’s ever seen.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, more than a little breathless.

“Sure thing, sugar,” Tony reaches up to bop Steve’s nose, and then yelps when Steve lunges forward and wraps an arm around his waist. “Hey!”

“You’re drivin’ me, right?”

In response, Tony’s body goes limp, and when Steve just crouches down to throw him over his shoulder as he walks towards the door, he can feel the smile settling happily on his face.

\- - - - -

“Your boyfriend’s here,” Natasha tells Steve, just as he’s finished photographing a pair of toddlers grinning from their perch on Santa’s lap, and he almost gives himself whiplash as he whips his head in the direction of the thinning line a couple of feet away, breath hitching at the familiar head of tousled locks at the end of it.

“He’s– he’s not my boyfriend,” he says, even as he catches Tony’s eye and returns the wave sent his way.

“Sure he’s not,” Natasha mutters.

“Tasha–”

“Ready for the next group?”

Steve just nods, and tries to pretend he can’t feel the way Tony’s gaze never leaves him. It’s easy to stay focused on his job, but as the sound of Tony’s voice– and Rhodey’s, too, he notices– gets closer, he feels his heart skip a beat just a little more often.

“He’s cute, y’know,” Natasha says softly, and Steve flushes at how indiscreet she’s being as she stares. “Don’t you think he’s cute, Rogers?”

“ _Nat._ ”

“Fine,” is all she says, chuckling as she unclips the cord in front of the line, and Steve doesn’t even have time to take a deep, readying breath before Tony’s suddenly right there in front of him.

“Hi, handsome.”

Steve feels the warmth in his face spread further down his neck, and for the first time since he started working as a helper Elf at Santa’s Winter Wonderland, he thanks God for the ridiculous costume he’s wearing. “Hi, Tony.”

“How’s it going?”

“Fine,” he replies, already feeling the corner of his lips turn up. He tries to focus on helping Rhodey’s little sister look at the camera instead of the veritable explosion of colorful decorations around her. “What’re ya doin’ here?”

He sees Tony grin from the corner of his eye. “Came to get Jeanie her picture with Santa.”

“I see that.”

“Figured it wouldn’t hurt to pop in and see my favorite Elf, though.”

“You’re such a dork,” Steve can’t help the laughter that bubbles out him. “How many people did you tell about this?”

“Just Pep,” Tony says.

Steve starts taking pictures, and waits for it…

“Barton, too. And Carol. And Wilson.”

“And Thor!” Rhodey adds, swinging his sister up into his arms. “And Loki. Who told Barnes.”

“He already knew,” Steve says smugly. When it comes to Tony, god knows Steve will take any chance to do so. “Should I keep an eye out for all of ‘em, then?”

“Probably,” Tony chuckles, and Steve turns to face him just in time to see the gleam in his eyes turn wicked. “But can you blame them, gorgeous? You’re fucking unreal.”

“Get outta here,” Steve rolls his eyes; his entire body feels warm, and aware of Tony’s body in a way it never is with anyone else.

“I’m on the naughty list this year for sure.”

“When are you _not_?” Steve quips back. 

“Ouch,” Tony pouts exaggeratedly, only to shrug a second later. “Worth the view, though.”

“I’m never tellin’ you anything, ever again.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Sure you do.”

“ _Out_ ,” Steve points to the exit, even as he returns the grin Tony gives him.

“Pie from Marcello’s when your shift’s over?” Tony looks up at him through his eyelashes, and Steve doesn’t even pretend he’s going to put up a fight.

“With extra pineapple?”

“You’re disgusting and I’m suddenly regretting the entire trip over here.”

“I’m off at six.”

Tony rolls his eyes, but a moment later, he’s leaning up and pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “The things I do for you…”

“Bye, Tony,” Steve says softly, trying to keep his breath steady as Tony leaves with a wink over his shoulder, Rhodey following a second later with a friendly wave of his own.

The silence that follows feels heavier than it had before, but it’s not long before Natasha breaks it.

“You’re such a goner, Rogers,” is all she says, but as Steve starts setting up the camera for the next group, all he can think about is the feel of Tony’s lips on his cheek.

_I sure am._


	90. The one where... Steve enjoys a nice holiday tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #2: "What are the odds that you'll forget this even happened?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"What are the odds that you'll forget this even happened?"

“Slim to none, Cappuccino.” 

“...help me up, then?” Steve asks, taking the hand Tony offers him a second later. “Careful, don’t want you joinin’ me down here.”

“Aren’t I always careful? Ah, don’t answer that,” Tony grins, just as Steve opens his mouth to reply. “Gotta tell ya, Cap-- didn’t see any of this coming.”

Steve looks out at the rest of his team scattered all around the otherwise empty ice rink, and shrugs. “‘s my first time.”

Tony’s smile turns wicked. “Oh _really _\--”__

“ _Ice skating_ , Tony,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Still, I kind of... I dunno, Cap, you’re usually a lot more--”

“He’s beauty and he’s grace, he’s falling on his face!” Clint sings as he skates by, leaping and landing a perfect triple axel a second later, and not even Steve can hold back a chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Come on, sunshine,” Tony pulls him by the wrist. “Up and at ‘em, let’s try it again.”

From across the rink, Buck and Sam holler in support, and Steve tries to focus on his footing instead of the way Tony’s fingers seems to brand his skin. “You don’t have to stay here with me, y’know. I know I’m... you can’t be havin’ fun when I’m just slowing you down.”

“No, stop, shut up.”

“Tony--”

“I’m having fun. Lots of fun, tons of fun,” Tony’s eyes are gleaming as they meet Steve’s. “You’re a hoot, Rogers.”

“Thanks,” Steve mutters, but there’s a smile on his face when they make it halfway to the other side without another incident. “I think I’m gettin’ the hang of this.”

“Knew you would, gum drop,” Tony says. “Think you can make it all the way to Romanoff?”

“Guess we’ll see.”

“I’ll treat you to some hot chocolate if you do.”

“You’ll treat me anyway,” Steve chuckles, only to take in a sharp breath when Tony lets go and skates beyond reach. “Tony--”

“Ha! Not so smug now, are ya?” Tony teases, sliding effortlessly across the ice in lazy swirls and graceful figure eights, and Steve finds himself suddenly holding his breath as moves inch by inch. He’s aware that most of his team is now looking his way, so he looks up from his skates to give them a friendly smile. 

“Little by little, one travels far. Go Rogers! Rah rah rah!”

“Shaddup, Stark.”

“Is this what I get for being nice? Next time, I’ll just laugh.”

“You won’t be laughin’ when I catch you,” Steve promises, but Tony just lifts an eyebrow.

“I’ll be old and gray by the time you catch me, Spangles.”

“Well, you’re halfway to that already.”

Tony’s eyes narrow dangerously, and Steve feels a thrill run through him. “Pushin’ your luck there, big guy.”

“I can do this all day.”

“What, fall ass backwards? I know.”

“ _Tony_.”

“Does it bother you?”

Steve frowns. “Does what bother me?”

“The ice,” Tony replies, suddenly more quiet and serious than he’d been since they got here. “I know you-- you said it was fine, but, y’know. You would say that just to make ‘em happy.”

“Tony--”

“If you’re... I couldn’t shower for weeks after--” Tony waves his hand around vaguely. In the distance, the sound of laughter mingles with the Christmas music blaring from the speakers even farther away. “Just say the word and I can call it a day.”

“I can handle it.”

“You shouldn’t fucking have to,” Tony sighs, and then inches back towards Steve. “Need a hand again?”

Steve shakes his head. “Just... stay with me?” he asks, before he can wrestle the words back inside, and he holds his breath until Tony nods with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“Come on, old man-- we can probably get that chocolate _today_ , if you try hard enough.”

“Zip it, mister.”

“Yes, sir!” Tony winks, and Steve feels warmth settle over their fingers intertwine between them.


	91. The one where... Tony's not trying to butter Ma Rogers up. He's NOT.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #3: "You have frosting on your cheek."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to my Married-In-Vegas!AU (aka chapter 84)!
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“You have frosting on your cheek.”

“Stop talking.”

“Tony–”

“Zip. It,” Tony hisses, eyes narrowed in concentration as he carefully spreads bright green frosting over one of the many Christmas tree-shaped cookies sitting in front of him, and Steve feels a rush of fondness run through him at the sight.

In the days since they returned from Las Vegas, the feeling’s become all too familiar, and Steve tries not to dwell too much on the voice inside his head telling him he could easily get used to it. “You don’t have to do this, y’know.”

“Uh, I think I _dooo_ … Ah! There,” Tony looks up with a grin, and holds out his now finished product to Steve’s lips. “Want some, sugar?” 

Steve lets out a huff of a laugh even as he feels his face grow warm. “Fifty cookies is a bit much, dontcha think?” he asks, taking a bite a second later, and Tony’s eyes darken deliciously as he licks his own lips. 

“Not if your mom has a sweet tooth,” Tony replies, voice slightly rougher than it’d been moments before. “Does she?”

“Yeah,” is all Steve can say.

“Good. Now help me finish the rest of these bad boys.”

Steve nods, and moves around the kitchen island until they’re standing side by side. “You’re, um… okay with this?” he asks, and it comes out quiet and unsure, as hesitant as he always feels when it comes to Tony Stark.

 _Your husband_ , his mind corrects him, and Steve wonders if there’ll ever come a time where he _doesn’t_ want to hear those words. 

Tony looks down at the cookies, and then sneaks a glance over at him. “I just… want her to, uh. Y’know…”

“She will,” Steve says softly, bumping his shoulders against Tony’s. “She gave me an earful when I told her what happened, but she’s itchin’ to meet ya now.”

“Weird. Never really been the ‘meet-your-mother’ type.”

“And you never thought you’d be doin’ it after getting married?” Steve laughs.

“Didn’t think I’d do it _at all_ ,” Tony replies, as casual as the movement of his shoulders as he shrugs and picks up a piping bag-- this one with red frosting-- and Steve is surprised at how painful the thought of Tony being alone is. 

Or maybe it’s just the thought of Tony not being with _him_.

“Do you, um…” he starts, and then takes a deep breath when the words feel stuck in his throat. 

“Do I what?”

“I know you said it wasn’t all my fault, but… the last thing I wanna do is make things hard for you.”

Tony sighs. “I can handle it.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Steve points out, cursing the way his voice shakes ever so slightly. “And I… I wouldn’t blame you if– if you’re regretting… this.”

“…Are _you_?” Tony asks, every line in his body taut and still, and standing there in Tony’s kitchen, dropping green icing atop dozens of sugar cookies, Steve suddenly feels like every moment in his life has been leading up to this one.

“No,” he finally says. He can barely hear anything over the rush of blood that fills his ears, but it’s worth it for the way Tony’s body goes loose again. “It’s crazy, and a little scary, but… you’re worth it. I like you, Tony.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods, and knows Tony’s smile will stay with him for days.

“I kind of like you too, big guy.”

“That’s good,” Steve says, “‘Cause it’d be kind of a shitty marriage if we didn’t.” Tony rolls his eyes even as he lets out a quiet laugh, and Steve feels his heart give a lurch at the possibility of a future filled with that sound.

“Still too early to call, Rogers.”

“It’s not too early to back out.” The words are painful to say, but Steve meets Tony’s eyes and doesn’t look away.

“Like hell I am,” Tony says, waving a hand down at the cookies. “What the fuck would I do with all these?”

“I have a sweet tooth too, y’know?”

“You don’t say.”

“I do,” Steve nods, and doesn’t give Tony time to say anything else before he leans in to lick the swipe of frosting that’d been sitting on Tony’s cheek the whole time.

Tony pulls back with a startled yelp. “I take it back, you’re disgusting and I don’t like you and I’m calling Pep and calling this whole thing off!”

“I’m makin’ Carbonara.”

“...Goddamn. Guess I’m stuck with you, then.”

“Sounds perfect,” Steve says, and when Tony gives him a soft, shy smile, Steve knows he believes him.


	92. The one where... plans get ruined, but everything still works out perfectly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #4: "It was supposed to be your present!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"It was supposed to be your present!”

“Yeah? Well next time, find a better hiding place than our sock drawer!”

“How was I supposed to know you’d go rummaging around?”

“I don’t rummage, Tony-- they’re socks! I go in there every day!”

Tony glares at Steve, and in one lightning quick move, reaches out to snatch the tiny black box from his boyfriend’s trembling hand. “Good luck finding it again!”

“Tony--” The sound of footsteps follows Tony as he runs down the hall toward the elevator, faster and heavier.

“Don’t you fucking dare follow me, Rogers!”

“You can’t be serious--”

Tony looks over his shoulder and narrows his eyes. “Try me. There’s two weeks until Christmas--”

“Don’t be ridiculous--”

“And if you think I won’t make you wait--”

“Just ask me now!” Steve yells from across the room, and Tony almost trips over his own feet as he stumbles to a halt.

“What?” he breathes, heart beating pathetically fast now.

Steve takes a deep, readying breath, and starts walking toward him. “I... God, if that’s what I think it is, I might go crazy if you actually make me wait,” he laughs a little wetly, fingers fiddling in front of him as he gets closer and closer.

Tony can barely hear himself talk over the rush of blood in his ears. “I h-had a-- I had a plan, and-- and a speech,” he stutters, and god, he can’t believe he’s actually saying this. “With some, uh, fireworks. And...other shit.”

“Sorry to throw a wrench in those plans.”

“No you’re not,” Tony rasps. His hands are shaking so hard, he’s surprised he hasn’t dropped the ring box. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Tony?”

“Hmm?”

Steve spares a quick, wide-eyed glance at the box, then looks back up to meet Tony’s eyes. “I c-can... I can wait, if you, uh, really want me to?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh.” Steve nods. He’s so close now, Tony can feel the warmth radiating off him. “But just so y’know... my answer isn’t gonna change.”

“Steve...”

“‘Cause I can’t think of anything better than marryin’ you, baby.”

Tony blinks back the stinging in his eyes, and smiles through the wave of fear that runs through him. “Guess there’s no point in putting it off, huh?”

Steve can’t seem to stop fidgeting. “Un-unless you want to.”

“Nope. Your loss, Rogers-- say goodbye to all my hard work.”

“Seems like a small price to pay for what I’m getting.”

Tony groans playfully. “Sap.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“ _Steve._ ”

“Yeah?”

“Marry me?”

“Okay,” Steve nods, and Tony only has time to catch the giddy grin on his face before strong arms pull him in and then he’s tasting it himself. He doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around Steve’s neck and pull him closer, and he’s pretty sure they’re both crying-- there’s the telltale taste of salt in their kisses now-- but damn it, if it doesn’t feel like every moment in Tony’s life has been leading up to this.

“I love you,” he gasps-- after minutes, hours, he doesn’t know long it’s been, doesn’t _care_ \-- lips brushing Steve’s with every word.

“I love you too, Tony, I love you. God, _so much_ ,” Steve breathes back. “So damn much.”

“You better. I don’t throw my plans away for anyone else, big guy,” Tony says, just as he steps back to pull open the box and pull out the ring nestled inside. “I can’t believe I’m giving this to you in our pajamas, Christ...”

“This is perfect, sweetheart,” Steve says, an awed, happy sigh leaving his lips as Tony slides the ring onto his finger. “Oh my god...”

“There you go. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, all that jazz,” he teases, even as his heart is beating so hard, he’s sure Steve can feel it. 

“Merry Christmas,” Steve replies, and leans back in to press their lips together.


	93. The one where... Steve just wants to go home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #5: "Are you okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re asking _me_?” Tony scoffs, face hidden halfway into his pillow. 

“‘Course I am.”

“I’m not the one on the mission, babe.”

On the small screen propped up on the headboard inches away, he sees Steve smile softly. “Doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you,” he whispers, and the sound sends a slow rush of warmth through Tony’s body.

Which is probably why he doesn’t fight the words that tumble from his lips. “I can’t sleep.”

“Tony--”

“I mean, I _can_. I do. Sometimes. I just...” he shrugs, nuzzling further into the bed. “I miss you. Here.”

“I miss you too, y’know.”

“I know,” is all Tony can say, and lets out a breath when Steve’s hand reaches out towards his own screen. 

Towards _him_. 

“You okay?”

“My bed’s colder than usual, so I could be better.”

“That so?”

“Uh huh,” Tony nods, lips quirking up into a easy grin. “My favorite pillow’s a no-show, but I get by. You?”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to shrug. “I’m itchin’ to get back to you. Shouldn’t be more than a week ‘till we’re cleared.”

“It better not be.”

“Scout’s honor, sweetheart,” Steve says, and holds out his pinky with another smile. 

Tony does the same even as he rolls his eyes. “I’m holding you to that.”

“I love you, Tony.”

It takes more than a few moments for him to blink back the ridiculous sting of tears in his eyes at the words, and when he finally speaks again, his voice is steady as ever. “Back atcha, stud.”

“I can’t wait to be home.”

“Yeah?”

Steve just runs a hand through his hair, and Tony breathes through the pang of longing. “I can’t wait to wrap my arms around you and keep you in bed for days.”

“Days, huh? That’s a first.”

“Yeah, well I think I’m owed some time off. I’m not lettin’ anything keep me from my first Christmas as a married man.”

“That makes two of us,” Tony says, and wonders if the thrill of those words will ever fade. “I’m not above flying over there to wherever the fuck you are--”

“That’s classified--”

“--and bringing you back myself. and honey bunny,” he brings the tablet up to his face, “if you think I can’t figure out where you are in a minute, you’ve been gone for too fucking long.”

“I have been. I want to go home.” Steve’s voice breaks on the last word, and Tony feels the empty space on the bed more than ever.

“Just a little bit longer, baby,” he rasps. “And then I’m not letting you outta my sight for _weeks_.”

“Can we go tree picking?”

“We’ll do whatever you want, cupcake. Trees, skating, snowball fights-- whatever you want.”

Steve’s eyes are still wet, but when he nods, the determined set of his jaw is comfortably familiar. “I’ve always wanted to go to one those Christmas Tree farms.”

Tony hums, and bites his lip against a smirk. “Does my sexy lumberjack want to pick his own tree? Hmmm?”

Steve’s shoulder are shaking even before Tony’s finished talking. “Oh my g-- _Tony!_ ”

“And I know I complain, but you’re fucking delicious in flannel--”

“I’m hanging up now, I swear--”

“Watching you hold that long, thick... axe,” Tony winks, helpless against the smile that breaks out on his face as Steve’s laughter grows louder. “Oooh, baby, that’s sounding better and better by the minute!”

“You’re ridiculous!”

“But you love me anyway.”

Steve looks up at him through his eyelashes. “Always.”

“Sap.”

“ _Your_ sap.”

“You’re damn fucking right,” Tony says, even as he feels his cheek flush. 

Steve gives him one last smile, and then sighs dejectedly. “I should probably let you get some rest...”

“Pot, kettle.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.”

“And kick some ass, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve brings a hand up in a lazy salute, then kisses the tips of his fingers and touches them to the screen. “Love you, sweetheart.”

Tony bites back a curse as he feels his eyes start to burn. “I love you too, darling.”

Steve’s smile is the last thing he sees before the screen goes black, and when Tony throws the blankets over his head, he knows there’ll be no nightmares tonight.


	94. The one where... Steve and Tony do some Christmas babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #6: "I don't know why we're doing this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I don’t know why we’re doing this.”

“Tony–”

“It’s like you’ve forgotten who you’re friends with.”

“I haven’t–”

“I could buy _a thousand trees_ , and have them at the tower by the hour.”

“I know, but–”

“I could buy all the fucking tree companies–”

“Language, Tony.”

“I could buy every damn forest in the world, Steve.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Then why am I driving up to the middle of fucking nowhere to get a Christmas tree?”

“Because I’ve always wanted to do it?” Steve’s smile is smug but genuine, and bright as the fucking sun.

Gorgeous bastard.

“You’re a menace, Rogers. Taking prey on the weak folk.”

“Weak, my ass,” Steve laughs. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to go tree picking. And besides, we can’t keep them cooped up at home for too long,” he jerks his head behind them, where their currently de-aged teammates are tucked in the car carefully, seat belts fastened over their bright, puffy jacket-clad chests. “This’ll be fun for them.”

“Fun!” Thor screams from the back row, and when Rhodey echoes it with a happy cry of his own, Bruce giggles happily beside them. “Fun, fun, _fun_!”

“Pipe down, MC Hammer,” Tony says, eyes locking with the tiny god’s through the rear view mirror.

Thor just grins, and waves. “Hammer! Mew mew!”

“Mew mew!” Clint crows from the middle row.

“Do something,” Tony turns to Steve, eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Sure, Tony,” the blond replies, and turns on the radio just in time to hear the opening lines of–

“Oh fuck no,” Tony groans. “I take it back– turn it off. Not this song. _Anything_ but this.”

Steve’s eyes are bright with amusement. “But it’s a classic.”

“You weren’t even awake for it, so shut up.”

“Don’t be a grinch, Tony,” Steve says, “come on, sing alon– oh, here it goes… _All I want for Christmas… is…._ ”

“ _Youuuuuuuuu!_ ” Bucky croons behind them, and the car explodes in more giggles.

“How does he even know this song?” Tony grumbles, but can’t keep the smile off his face at the sound of his friends’ happiness.

“Barton,” is all Steve says, and sits back to enjoy the sing along that follows.

It’s loud and more than a little off-key, but as Tony drives further into the cold, quiet forests of Pennsylvania, he thinks there are worse things he could be stuck listening to.

\- - - - -

“Alright,” he announces, when the minivan– and thank every fucking god this spell is only temporary, because if he thinks about what he’s driving any longer, he might get hives– finally stops in the semi-crowded parking lot of _Uncle Jeb’s World Famous Christmas Tree-Picking Wonderland_. “Everybody listen up.”

A hushed silence falls over his tiny passengers, every eye suddenly aimed his way expectantly. Even Steve looks impressed.

“Thank you,” Tony says. “Mission parameters–”

“ _Getthebestchwistmastweeever,_ ” Rhodey calls out, and Tony holds back a sigh at the eager nods all around.

“Thanks, bud. Okay, call it, Cap,” he turns to the blond beside him, who gives him a fond eye roll before addressing the children.

“Simple rules, team,” he says, voice as serious as it is gentle. “Stay together, stay with me or Tony, look for trees you like, and have fun. Understood?”

Six serious nods later, they’re lined up outside the car, their jackets creating a vibrant rainbow against the dark green trees all around.

“Let’s go,” Steve says, walking determinedly towards the entrance, and Tony lets out a chortle at the sight of their teammates following obediently behind him like baby ducklings. It’s almost ridiculous, how warm it makes him feel.

A soft pat on his knee makes him look down, however, and he finds Natasha’s bright, green eyes looking up at him.

“Don’t feel like joining the gang?” he asks, and she shakes her head in response, little red curls swaying from side to side. She’s as pretty as a doll, and Tony feels a sudden, surprising rush of affection for her. “Feel like sticking around with me?”

Natasha smiles, and takes the hand he holds out with unquestionable trust.

“Smart girl.”

\- - - - -

It doesn’t take Tony long to appreciate Steve’s plan in bringing them so far away, because not a single person stops them. Everybody seems to share the single minded focus that’s brought them all here, so the most either of them get is a curious second glance or an awed wave.

Which is good, Tony thinks, because he barely has time to look at anything besides the tiny crowd following Steve at every turn. With Natasha settled comfortably in his arms– it didn’t take long for her to get tired, which resulted in all that bright red hair tucked under his chin– he takes to walking behind them, leaving the decision to their eager, determined little minds.

“I wan’ dis one!” Clint screeches, pointing to a fir easily twice Steve’s height.

“Th-this one?” Bruce mumbles shyly, standing by the much sadder tree to their left.

“We needs a twee worthy of my Asgawdian woots!” Thor booms, running circles around his pick, and Rhodey’s quick to voice his agreement.

“Steeb!” Barnes whines, and Tony can’t see him, but he can hear him tapping on Steve’s jacket incessantly. “ _Steeeeeeeeeb!_ ”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Two twees?”

“No, Buck– just one.”

“Big twee?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve’s smile is warm and fond, and there in their little piece of Christmas tree heaven, Tony doesn’t think either of them’s ever been happier.

“Don’t get too attached, tater tots,” he calls out. “Still a lot of ground to cover, keep it up.”

Thor raises a fist. “Assemble!”

Tony catches Steve’s gaze when their team huddles up, holding hands as they weave in and out the tree lines. “Go after ‘em, big guy,” he says. “they’re all yours today.”

Steve sighs in amusement. “Must feel real good saying that after yesterday.”

“Damn right it does,” Tony huffs, careful not to jostle the bundle in his arms too much. “You try being in charge for three hours, _alone_ –”

“It wasn’t supposed to be that long,” Steve points out, sparing their young charges a glance. “Blame the SHIELD lackeys–”

“I do. And Fury, and Agent and everyone– do you know how hard it is to bathe _one_ kid, let alone six?”

“I helped when I got back, didn’t I?”

Tony can’t hold back the scoff, though they both know he’s not truly angry. “Yeah, if you call picking out their pajamas ‘helping’.”

“Hey! That was tough work, Stark!” Steve is laughing outright now, arm stretched out against a tree trunk to steady himself.

“Boo fucking hoo…” Tony rolls his eyes, and bumps shoulders with the blond as they make their way further into the lot.

“Boo,” Natasha murmurs, and giggles into Tony’s neck.

\- - - - -

Tony loses track of time after that, focused on keeping up a soft, steady conversation with the girl in his arms, and not losing Steve and their rag tag team, though with the noise they make, he could probably find them a mile away.

“What ‘bout dis one?”

“No, dat one!”

“Thor, don’t go too far! Clint, that snow’s not for eatin– Rhodey, don’t let go of Bruce’s hand, okay?”

A chuckle climbs its way up Tony’s throat, leaving him before he can stop it, and he looks down at Natasha. “I don’t know whether to thank Loki, next time we see him, or kick his ass.”

“Kick,” is the whispered response, as Nat fiddles with the zipper sitting on his neck.

“You _would_ say that-–”

“Dis one!”

When he looks up, he spots Thor, Clint, and Bucky jumping around a decent sized fir ahead. Bucky’s beanie topped head is nodding enthusiastically, and even Bruce is grinning.

“Dis twee is worthy!” Thor deems. Tony’s definitely seen nicer trees, and he’s pretty sure Steve thinks so too, but neither of them say a word as their Captain uncovers the axe they’d brought.

“Stand back,” is all he has to say, and then Tony has the tiny group gathered at his feet as their future Christmas tree comes tumbling down.

He’s left with the brunt of crowd control on their way back, but it’s worth it for getting to see Steve hulking around the hundred pound fir over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Gorgeous, show-off bastard, he thinks, and smothers a pathetically lovesick sigh.

\- - - - -

The sun’s well on its way down when they leave the parking lot, tree tied up above the car, and all the kids buckled down inside.

“So…” Steve says quietly, after some minutes of careful silence. “Was it as bad as you thought it’d be?”

The team is thankfully, blessedly quiet, and when Tony sneaks a peek through the rear view mirror, he almost groans in relief when he confirms they’re all asleep. “You really have to ask?”

“Nah. I just wanted to get the chance to say ‘I told you so’.”

“But you’re too mature for that, aren’t you?” Tony smirks.

Steve returns it with a grin of his own. “Sure I am.”

“So fucking smug, _Jesus_. I can feel it.”

“But I’m right?” This time, the words are soft and low, earnest in a way only Steve can manage, and Tony feels his chest grow even warmer.

“Thank you,” is all he can say, voice rough and raspy over the lump in his throat, and he prays Steve hears everything he feels he can’t say yet.

When Steve’s hand moves to cover his over the gear stick, Tony lets himself hope a little bit more.

‘Tis the season, after all.


	95. The one where... Bucky's a damn good friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #7: “Hands where I can see them!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Hands where I can see them!”

“The hell is this?” Bucky asks, stepping into the kitchen with slow, measured steps at the sight before him, and holds his hands up in front of him before he even realizes he’s doing it. 

Stark sends him a stern glare, and goes back to stirring a pot steaming over the stove. “Kitchen’s off limits, Barnes. Didn’t read the memo?”

“I just want some milk.”

“...Get it, get out.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but obeys. “Didn’t expect to see _you_ in charge of Christmas dinner.”

“I live to surprise, Jimbo,” Stark says, then winces a second later. “Sorry, reflex. Rhodey’s a James too.”

“Y’can call me Bucky, y’know,” Bucky tells him, and wonders at the way the words come out sounding... shy. He can’t remember the last time he felt anything close to that, but it’s worth it for the gleam of surprise that enters Stark’s eye. 

“Oh,” Stark says, quiet and a little stiff, and then gives him a jerky nod. “Ditto. On the, uh, name thing.”

“I can call you Bucky too?” Bucky asks, and feels an easy grin settle on his face when Stark rolls his eyes. 

“Smart ass. Just for that, you can peel and cut those apples over there,” he points to a bowl on Bucky’s side of the kitchen island. 

“What if I don’t?”

Tony scoffs. “Good luck saying that to Cap’s puppy eyes,” is all he says, and Bucky takes a moment to curse said eyes before trudging over and plopping the milk gallon on the counter with a sigh.

“How d’ya want ‘em?”

“Sliced.”

Bucky looks at the bowl, then at the rest of the ingredients scattered around it. “Y’know how to bake?”

Tony nods. “My mom, she, uh... she baked. Sometimes. Ana Jarvis, too-- the recipe’s hers,” he replies, then jerks his head at the apples. “Today, please.”

“‘m surprised Steve’s not in here with ya,” Bucky says, barely holding back a laugh when Tony’s cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. “The two’f you are tied at the hip.”

“Kinda wanna keep my kitchen from burning, though.”

This time, Bucky’s helpless at keeping his laughter in. “Punk’s always been shit at cookin’.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Tony says. “He tried making Corned beef--”

“Aw fuck,” Bucky groans. “Why the hell’d he do that?”

“First time cooking at team dinner nights.”

“Better have been the last, too.”

Tony snickers. “Barton spent half the night in the bathroom.”

“ _He ate it_?”

“Puppy eyes.”

“You poor bastards.”

“Eh, now we just distract him with cat videos and memes,” Tony says, and there’s a smile on his face so fond, Bucky decides to just go for it.

“You should tell ‘im how you feel.”

“... _What_?”

“Tell him. How you feel,” he says again, looking down at the soothing rise and fall of the knife in his hand, and feels a flash of triumph when he hears Tony’s breath hitch.

“I-- I don’t--”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he says, but he’s careful to say the words gently, and when Tony doesn’t kick him out, he just keeps cutting. “You’re almost as obvious as he is.”

“He doesn’t--”

“He _does_.” Tony says nothing, and there’s no way Bucky’s not taking advantage now. “Everyone and their Ma can see you two are goners. Except Steve, ‘cause he's always been so fucking blind to it.

“But I see it. How he looks at you. Like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen and he’s still the shrimpy little shit getting his ass kicked in a Brooklyn back alley. Like...you’re everything he’ll never feel good enough to have. Which is bullshit, y’know,” he finally looks back up, shrugging a hell of a lot more casually than he feels. “It’s kinda nauseating to be around you two. In a-- a nice way. It’s... good.”

Tony nods once, and meets his eyes briefly before quickly looking away.

“Apple pie’s his favorite.”

“I know...” Tony says, so softly, it probably would’ve gone unheard if it’d been anyone else in there other than Bucky. 

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I don’t know if I ever--” Bucky swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “There was someone, I think... I remember. Sometimes. But I’m not pretendin’ I know what it’s like. But when it’s real, though? You’d either be an idiot or a coward to pass it up. And I know you ain’t either.”

“...That’s enough apples.”

“Y’sure?”

“If it gets you to stop talking, yeah,” Tony mutters, but the line of his shoulders is relaxed like few people ever are when Bucky’s around, and deep inside, Bucky feels another frozen, tied up knot start to unwind just a little.

“You’re gonna have to make more than one,” he says. “‘Cause I’m gonna need at least half as payment.”

“Isn’t an afternoon with me enough?”

“For a certain fella, sure. But not for me.”

“I hate you.”

“I will lick every fucking apple slice, Stark.”

Across from him, Tony narrows his eyes. “I’ll tell Steve.”

“You’re so whipped,” Bucky sniggers.

“Jealous?”

“You wish. You two deserve each other,” he says, and when the curve of Tony’s lips turns up into a tiny, hopeful smile, Bucky welcomes the happy warmth that blooms in his chest.


	96. The one where... Steve and Tony share a nice moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #8: "You were worth it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You were worth it.”

Through the faint, crackling music coming from the phonograph across the room, Tony feels Steve’s words brush his skin like soft kisses, and even though he pulls back to meet the blond’s eyes, neither of them stop swaying to the slow, familiar tune. “Hmm?” is the only sound he makes, already breathless at the way Steve’s eyes gleam from the Christmas lights hung all over.

“I said... you were worth it.”

“Worth what?”

“Everything,” Steve replies, and even though it hadn’t seemed possible a second earlier, he manages to pull Tony in closer than they already were. “I just...”

“Just... just what? What’s going on, babe?” Tony asks, running his fingers through the short hair at the back of Steve’s nape, smiling when he feels the faintest shiver run down his boyfriend’s back.

“I know I--” Steve swallows, and bites his lip as they start another turn. “Sometimes I wonder if you know how much I love you.”

Tony breathes through the skip in his heart. “Steve--”

“I know I tell you a lot, but... I just wanted to say that-- that you were worth it,” Steve says. His eyes are bright with emotion, but they don’t waver as they stare down at Tony. “You’re worth every moment that brought me here. You’re worth every bruised cheek and split lip I got when I was that shrimpy little boy back in Brooklyn.”

Tony’s knees suddenly feel weaker than they’ve ever felt, and he can barely hear his voice through the rush of blood in his ears. “What...”

“You were worth every doubt I ever had-- that I wasn’t good enough, that I’d never be able do anything to make the world better. And you were worth every damn bit of pain I felt when the serum changed me. You were worth every moment of loneliness I’ve ever felt. God... you were worth every minute, every second, of those seventy years in the ice. And I’d do it all again, a thousand times. I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“Why?” Tony manages to warble out, shoulders heaving from what he will forever deny is a sob.

But even through the tears in his eyes, Steve’s smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Because I’ve got everything I never knew I wanted right here,” he tightens his hold.

“ _Steve._ ”

“I love you so damn much,” Steve whispers. “Sometimes I think I’m dreamin’, baby.” 

“Lucky for you, honey, I’m too good to be dreamt up,” Tony rasps, croaking out a chuckle when Steve lets out a laugh loud enough to drown out the final fading notes of the current song.

“Thank God for that.”

Tony takes in a second to revel in the utter happiness on Steve’s face, before dropping his head onto a warm, firm, cashmere-covered shoulder. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For...” _loving me_ , Tony wants to say. _For putting up with me, for not hating me, for being so much more than I’ll ever deserve._ “For this,” is what he ends up saying.

“No one else I’m ever gonna wanna do this with.”

“You don’t know that.” Tony tries to ignore the pain that stabs his chest at the thought.

“Yes I do.”

“How?”

“I just... do. Do you trust me?”

"...Uh huh.”

“Then trust me when I tell you you’ll always be worth it,” Steve says, lips brushing the side of Tony’s head, and Tony...

Well, Tony just nods, letting the music take over the room once again. “Been a while since we’ve done this,” he says, some time later. His entire world feels reduced to the warm circle of Steve’s arms, and the comforting voice crooning out wishes of Merry Little Christmases.

“You can bet we’ll be doin’ it a lot more often after tonight,” Steve says, as resolutely as the firm, steady beat of the heart Tony’s hand is pressed over.

“Oh really?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Just say the word and I’m all yours.”

“I thought you already were,” Tony says, and doesn’t fight the smile at the happy sigh that leaves Steve’s lips.

“Right as always, Mr. Stark.”

“You know it.”


	97. The one where... Steve takes Tony out to see a famous sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #9: "You're insane."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You’re insane.”

“Tony--”

“So fucking insane, that’s literally the only reason I can think of for why you dragged me out here--”

“You said--”

“--into the fucking cold, with all these people--”

“It’s not _that_ cold--”

“Just so we can see something we’ve seen every year since we were born--”

“We’ve never seen it live,” Steve points out. He looks so cute, cheeks flushed from the cold, blond hair hidden beneath a frankly ridiculous Iron Man beanie, that Tony can’t even summon a glare at his friend--

No. Not ‘friend’.

 _Your boyfriend now_ , his mind reminds him giddily, and Tony barely manages to stop his face from breaking out into a pathetically sappy little grin. “It’s a tree, Rogers,” he finally says.

“It’s _special!_ And I just... I thought you’d enjoy watchin’ the lights go up.” Steve’s eyes widen, big and blue and under the lights all around them, and Tony buries his head in Steve’s chest with a groan.

“I hate you.”

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Steve says, even as Tony feels those broad shoulders shaking with laughter.

“‘m cold.”

“Come on, then. I’ll buy you a hot chocolate.”

“I want two.”

“Then you’ll get two,” Steve tells him, and makes a path through the crowd milling around Rockefeller Center towards the food truck parked beside the busy Manhattan streets. Tony tries his best to keep up, and he’s just getting ready to remind Steve he’s behind him, when the blond turns half his chest in Tony’s direction, and takes his hand. “I’ve got you.”

Tony feels every inch of Steve’s skin warm him like brand-- neither of them are wearing gloves, for reasons Tony can’t remember but doesn’t give a fuck about anymore-- and he looks down to hide the smile that finally breaks through. “You better,” he says, and knows Steve’s heard him when the grip around his fingers tightens once.

They finally break free a couple of steps later, but neither of them has pulled away by the time they finally reach the food truck, and the curve of Steve’s smile is breathtakingly tender. “You still want two chocolates?” he asks casually, like he hasn’t sent Tony’s heartbeat skyrocketing over the course of a minute.

“Only have one hand,” Tony says tentatively, breathing a sigh of relief when Steve tugs him closer a second later.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he says, mouth brushing Tony’s temple with every word.

“It’s the least you could do for bringin’ me out here.”

“We can leave, if you want.”

Tony nuzzles into the wool of Steve’s coat. “Don’t wanna anymore,” he mumbles. 

“Really?“

”’s nice. Don’t tell anyone, though.“

Steve’s laughter joins the bustle of the city, the faint tunes of a Christmas song in the distance, and Tony’s takes it in like he’ll never have it again. "Scout’s honor.”

They get their drinks a minute later– Tony’s almost embarrassed by the noise that leaves him when he takes his first sip of the rich, creamy chocolate, until Steve’s face flushes the prettiest shade of pink, eyes darkening with blatant want, and then it suddenly doesn’t seem so bad– before making their way back to the crowd gathered in front of the tree, and this time, Steve doesn’t bother keeping any distance between them. 

“You havin’ a good time?”

“Getting better by the minute,” Tony replies, with a pointed pat at the arm settled snugly around his waist. 

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. It’s possible that you might’ve… had a good idea with this.”

“…wanna repeat that? I didn’t quite get it–”

“Shut up, you meatball!”

Steve carefully turns him over until they’re face to face, their intertwined hands cradled between them. “I wanted you to have a nice time.”

“I am,” Tony says. “Might be more from the company, though.”

“Oh,” Steve says, and Tony wants to kiss that look of awe right off his face. “Well, just you wait till the lights go on.”

“I like what I’m looking at right now better.”

“Wow, who’s the meatball now?”

“You. Always you.”

“Fine with me, if it gets you smilin’ like that,” Steve whispers. Even in the bustle around them, Tony hears him clear as day.

“Pay attention, Rogers,” he says eventually, turning around again until his back is pressed up against Steve’s chest, and breathes in the cold December night until it fills his lungs with peace.


	98. The one where... Steve and Tony do some much-needed sneaking out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #10: "Oh, great, they've seen us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"Oh, great, they've seen us."

“Who--”

“I guess that’s what I get for standing next to you, though-- you should not look this good in a seventy year old uniform, Jesus Christ,” Tony groans, tugging at Steve’s sleeve as he hustles them through the crowded ballroom. “Faster, Rogers!”

“What’s going o-- Tony, where are we going?” Steve asks him, the faintest hint of exasperation in his voice, but when he doesn’t pull away, Tony just gives him a grin over his shoulder.

“Want to spend the rest of the night answering questions about what kind of toothpaste Captain America uses--”

“Why would anyone want to know th--”

“-- or what kind of underwear--”

“Tony!”

“-- or if you even wear any--”

“What the f--”

“Language, Spangles!” Tony laughs, as they finally break through the crowds and out into the surprisingly empty balcony. He stick a hand back inside just as a waiter passes by, and swipes the tray in his hands with a quick ‘thanks’. A click of the door lock later, he breathes a sigh relief, and sticks out the tray in Steve’s direction. “Slider?”

Steve rolls his eyes, and then startles another laugh from Tony’s lips as he takes the entire tray. “Where’s yours?”

“Share with me, you ass.”

“I guess you can have _one_ ,” Steve says, grinning as he holds said slider-- ridiculously tiny in between those large, pale fingers-- out to him, and Tony’s always known when to take what he can.

“So ungrateful, God... Next time, I’ll leave you to the wolves,” he mutters around a mouthful of meat and cheese.

“Thank you, Tony.”

Tony just lets out a fond huff.

“I can go talk to ‘em. If you want?” Steve offers, eyes a steely, determined blue that’s completely at odds with the way one cheek bulges out adorably around an entire slider, and Tony feels a now-familiar rush of warmth bloom in his chest. “It’s not right for ‘em to be houndin’ you all the time-- not at your Ma’s gala. And especially not during the holidays.”

“I’m used to it,”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“At ease, soldier,” Tony says, moving to stand beside Steve. “I’ll go back to schmoozing eventually.”

“It’s awful,” Steve says softly, brow furrowed in that all-too familiar, ‘Captain-America-and-Steve-Rogers-disapprove-wholeheartedly’ frown, as if Tony’d been the only one about to have his night ruined. “But... I get it.”

“I know you do.”

“You might need another one of these, then,” Steve holds up the tray, and Tony takes one with a smile.

“Thanks. For, uh, coming, too.”

“It’s nice,” Steve says, then chuckles when Tony gives him a knowing look. “Well, most of it, at least.”

“Yep... Small price to pay.”

“I, um... I would’ve loved to meet your mom.”

Tony swallows the lump in his throat with ease. “You would’ve liked her.”

“Well, I like _you_ , so I can’t imagine that I wouldn’t,” Steve says, bumping his shoulder with Tony’s.

“Charmer.”

“Only with you, Shellhead.”

 _I wish_ , Tony wants to say, but buries the words as far down as he can reach. “Christmas was her favorite, and she... she went all out-- every fucking cliche in the book. Drove me crazy when I got older, but... it’s still my favorite.”

“Nothin’ beats Christmas in New York City.”

“Even with the cold?”

Steve nods, and his hair looks so soft, Tony aches to run his fingers through it. “I’ve got enough to keep me warm nowadays.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony smirks, only to have his heart skip a beat when Steve turns to him, the now empty slider tray forgotten on the side. 

“I’m serious, y’know.”

“Steve--”

“It’s not easy sometimes, but... you make it better,” Steve says, so quiet, Tony can barely hear him.

“Good,” is all he can rasp out, just before a short, hard knock makes them startle, and when Tony turns to the doors, he can’t help but crack a grin at the sight of Pepper glaring at them from the other side of the glass.

“Guess that’s our cue, huh?” Steve asks. Tony tells himself that can’t be disappointment he hears in those five little words.

“It was fun while it lasted.”

“Yeah, it was,” Steve replies, and before either of them take one step toward the door, leans over to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Tony just nods, but the memory of Steve’s lips is enough to keep him warm all night.


	99. The one where... Tony is the best present, and it's time he knew it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #10: "So, I’ve been nothing but a failure this whole month."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“So, I’ve been nothing but a failure this whole month.”

Steve looks down as Tony’s voice-- low and warm against his shoulder-- breaks through the loud chaos booming from the living room speakers. The rest of their team is scattered around the other sofas and the floor, but Steve’s barely paid them any mind all night, completely attuned to the comforting weight of the body atop his. “What’re you goin’ on about?”

Tony doesn’t look away from the television as he shakes his head. “Never mind, it’s-- ignore me.”

“Not a chance,” Steve pokes his side until Tony looks up at him with a sigh. “Tell me.”

“I don’t... have a present. For you.” The last part is whispered into Steve’s shirt, and he frowns when Tony tenses in his arms and looks away.

“Tony--” 

“It’s a fucking week till Christmas and I’m--” Tony’s mouth snaps shut with a click of teeth, followed by a brittle curve of his lips. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Cap,” he says eventually, and Steve wonders if he can feel the way Steve’s heart suddenly feels like it wants to beat right out of his chest.

“What could I possibly want, that I don’t already have, hmm?”

There’s something in Tony’s voice when he replies, that Steve might almost call wistful. “There’s always something.”

“Not this time.”

“Steve--”

“Look at me?”

Tony does. 

“When I woke up, I had nothing. I had no one,” Steve says softly, and as a cold shiver than runs down his spine at the memories, he tugs Tony just a little bit closer. “But now I have a team-- a family. I have a home,” his voice wavers, eyes stinging with tears that he doesn’t let fall. “You gave that to me. I don’t need anything else. I can’t imagine ever wanting anything else.”

“...what about a onesie?” Tony finally says, and there’s no way anyone could ever miss the emotion behind his jab, but Steve just grins down at him. 

“Make it an Iron Man one and I’ll take it.”

“You think I won’t do it?”

“I'm countin’ on it, Stark.”

This time, the quirk of Tony’s lips is small and genuine, and everything Steve loves about this man. “Ditto. On the, uh... the home thing.”

“What?” Steve breathes.

“Everything’s... better now. It gets shitty sometimes, but-- it’s good.”

“Yeah?”

Tony nods. “Better now that I don’t ever have to buy you anything _ever again_ ,” he laughs.

“Can’t top what I’ve got right here anyhow,” Steve jostles him, and feels his heart skip a beat when Tony rolls his eyes before tucking his face back into Steve’s shoulder.

“Jesus Christ, enough with the sap, Rogers.”

“Not like it ain’t true.”

“ _Steve._ ”

“Shhh. I’m tryin’ to watch the movie.”

Tony peeks up to glare incredulously. “You’re the one--” he starts, only to yelp when Steve rolls him into the back of the couch.

“You’re bein’ kinda loud, Tony-- it‘s rude,” Steve says, chuckling as Tony struggles half-heartedly, pounding weakly on Steve’s chest.

“Y-you fucking ass-- _I h-hate you._ ”

“Love you too, Shellhead.”

Tony’s grin is blinding, and when they eventually settle back down to watch the movie, so is Steve’s.


	100. The one where... Steve does something not so smart, but Tony loves him anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #12: “Don't tell me to calm down!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 100!! *throws confetti at everyone* :') I just wanted to say a quick thank you to all of you guys, for all the hits and the kudos and the comments. It means a lot to me, and ILY ALL! :D
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“Don't tell me to calm down!”

“Stark--”

“Get out of my way,” Tony growls, but Natasha’s grip only tightens on his arm, and despite being smaller than him, she manages to hold him back easily.

“If you don’t calm down,” she says lowly, “I’m not letting you in there.”

“ _Nat_ ,” he whispers, shoulders heaving with every breath he takes, but apart from the slight softening of her green eyes, she doesn’t budge.

“I need you to calm down,” she says agin. “And so does Steve.”

The name sends a stab of pain up Tony’s chest-- not much different from how he’s felt in the last few hours-- but he pushes it down and forces his breathing to even out. 

“He’s okay,” Natasha says, voice soothing and even like a lullaby, and eventually, Tony feels her fingers around loosen around his wrist. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Sure you are,” she laughs, and the sound-- he can’t remember the last time he heard it-- has his lips quirking up before he can help it. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he breaths.

“Go easy on him.”

Tony rolls his eyes as he finally moves past Natasha, and listens to her footsteps grow farther and fainter as he finally brings himself to open the door in front of him.

He doesn’t make it one step in before his eyes find Steve, swaddled in half a dozen blankets and looking out at the gray, snowy skies beyond the glass walls, and he makes a pained, choked-off sound before he even knows he’s opened his mouth.

Steve’s head snaps his way, guilt etched all over his face, and just like that, Tony’s anger fades into bone-deep relief.

“Tony--”

“Shut up,” he croaks, stumbling forward until his shins hit the edge of the bed. “Shut up, you fucking idiot.”

Steve looks down. “Alright, I guess I deserve that--”

“You deserve so much worse. If you didn’t look so pathetic, I’d punch you so fucking hard.”

“I’m sorry...”

“Do you--” Tony swallows the lump lodged tightly in his throat, and takes a deep breath. “Do you have any fucking idea the kind of shit you put us through?”

“Tony--”

“ _Do you_?”

Steve nods miserably, coughing into a tissue a second later, and God help him, Tony wants to hold him in his arms and never let go. 

He settles for sitting at the edge of the bed and straightening the blankets around Steve’s body tersely. “Barton’s nose and arm are broken when he stopped Barnes from going after you, because God fucking forbid we lose him out there too--”

“I--”

“--just because you thought it’d be a good idea to go out in the middle of a snowstorm without telling a single one of your fucking team members so that they wouldn’t panic and lose ten years of their fucking life looking for you--”

“I lost my phone--”

“Shut up!” Tony growls. “I swear to God, if you don’t tell me what you were doing out there--”

“I was looking for your Christmas present!” Steve says loudly, and the words hit Tony like blows.

“ _What_?”

“I... I wanted to get you somethin’ nice.”

“Yeah? Well, for future reference, I’d rather have you breathing,” Tony snaps, and god, he can barely breathe through the fear of almost having been too late. “What the fuck would I do without you, huh?” he whispers, forcing the words out even though they feel like blades. “Don’t-- don’t do that again. I don’t care if I get shit for Christmas, I don’t-- I don’t want anything. Just you. Alive.” _With me._

“‘m sorry, Tony,” Steve says, looking up at him through those baby blues Tony’s been in love with for years, and honestly, it’s embarrassing how easily he just folds. 

“You better be,” he mutters.

“I am. But uh, actually, I did find something for ya.”

“Steve--”

“And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it to ya now. C’mere,” Steve pats the space in front of him, and even with his heart still feeling like it’s halfway out his chest, Tony follows his Captain’s orders.

“Y’sure you don’t... want...” he starts, only to trail off when Steve reaches around his neck and pulls out two very familiar bits of metal. “Steve...”

“I know it’s not much,” Steve says shyly, holding out a large, warm hand to press his dog tags into Tony’s palms. “But I want you to have ‘em.”

"Trying to make up for today, huh?” is all Tony can think to ask.

Steve’s laughter feels like the best thing he’s ever heard. “I figured you’d be less likely to deck me this way.”

“It’s a start,” Tony says. The dog tags feel like a brand on his skin, and he wonders what they’ll feel like against his chest. Against the heavy beating of a heart he lost to the man sitting in front of him.

“Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you... can you stay?” Steve asks. He looks younger than ever, and Tony doesn’t bother pretending to think about it.

“Budge over,” he orders, stretching out his body until it’s inches from Steve’s. “Rockin’ the burrito look, by the way.”

“‘m cold.”

“Wonder why.”

“‘m sorry.”

“I forgive you, Cap.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s eyes are barely open now, and for the first time since they brought him in from the snowy New York Streets, Tony doesn’t panic at the sight. 

“Sure thing, sunshine,” he whispers.

Steve falls asleep with a smile on his face, and hours later-- hours of nothing but Steve’s face and Steve’s hair, and Steve’s dog tags still clenched in his hands-- Tony lets the warmth lull him to sleep as well.


	101. The one where... Steve and Tony bring home the best present of all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #13: "What is she staring at?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: EXTREME FLUFF! ;)

“What is she staring at?”

“Hmmm?”

Tony would laugh at the dazed, distracted tone of Steve’s voice, but when he looks down at the tiny bundle nestled in the carrier between them, he knows he sounds exactly the same. “The wall can’t be that interesting.”

“Sure looks like it is,” Steve chuckles, then lets out a breath. “Look at her… God, she’s so…”

“Yeah,” Tony whispers, running his eyes all over his daughter, just like he’s done a thousand times since she was first put in his arms. “Can I… I can hold her, right?”

A touch on his arm finally makes him look away– only for a little while, though– until he meets Steve’s fond gaze. “You’re asking me if you can hold our daughter?”

Tony just shrugs, and lets out a tiny noise of wonder when their baby wiggles under her blankets.

“Let me take that, then,” Steve nods at the carrier, and Tony hands it over without a word. “Now, pick her up. Just–”

“Be careful, yeah, I know,” he says, and doesn’t breathe as he pulls her up and into his arms. She gurgles quietly as he settles her to his chest, nuzzling a tiny cheek against the soft cashmere of his sweater. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at her.”

“Me too,” Steve says softly, leaning against the elevator wall as it brings them closer to their floor.

“Get ready, baby girl,” Tony coos, right before the low ding announces they’ve arrived, and Steve has just enough time to kiss his cheek before the doors open.

Pepper almost slams into them, grabbing Steve’s arm to steady herself as she crowds Tony’s space. “Oh my god,” she breathes, bright green eyes blurry with emotion. “She’s absolutely _beautiful_.”

Tony doesn’t even try to hold back the proud smile, beaming as his daughter’s wide-eyed gaze travels all over Pepper’s face. “Are you surprised, with genes like those?” he jerks his head at Steve, who rolls his eyes even as he blushes.

“Still,” Pepper sighs, running a finger along the baby’s chubby little cheek. “She looks like a doll!”

“Wanna say hi to Auntie Pepper, baby?” Steve asks, grinning when their daughter reaches out to grip his finger.

“Auntie… I like the sound of that,” Pepper smiles, and when she doesn’t even look up at them, Tony can’t blame her in the slightest.

“You guys gonna stay there the whole time, or are you gonna bring her over here with the rest of us?” Slow, heavy footsteps follow the new voice, and a second later, Bucky steps out into view, shoulder tucked into the wall in a lazy lean.

“Hey Buck,” Steve calls out softly.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Pepper throws over her shoulder. “Wait your turn.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tony turns to Steve and pouts. “Guess we gotta share her now, huh?”

“I guess,” Steve sighs playfully. “But only for a little while, y’hear?” he tells Bucky. “Then we’re taking her back.”

“It’s not like we wanna keep her,” Bucky grins. “Babies ain’t always a walk in the park– we just get the fun parts.”

Tony doesn’t need to look at Steve or Pepper to know they’re rolling their eyes, but he just walks towards the man and holds out his daughter. “Support the head,” he orders.

Barnes’ eyes widen. “I, uh… I don’t– maybe get someone… Steve.”

“Nope. Come on, you won’t drop her, lemme see your arms– yep, there you go. Careful, please… see? All good,” Tony says, then smiles at the baby again. “This here’s Uncle Bucky, on your Papa’s side.”

He’s not expecting the other man to fall silent, barely even breathing as he stares, until– “She looks like Sarah.”

From behind him, Tony hears Steve gasp. “Bucky…”

“She looks just like your Ma, Stevie.”

Pepper lets out a muffled cry, and in his periphery, Tony sees his husband wiping at his own eyes with the back of his hand.

“Hey, Barnes!” Clint’s voice echoes from the living room. “If you can’t even do this one job– ow! What the hell, Nat? Why are all of you jerks? Hey, stop hogging the spawn!”

“You’re about to meet Uncle Asshole, baby,” Tony sighs, then yelps when Steve smacks his shoulder. “Don’t drop her, Barnes.”

“As if,” Bucky looks offended, even though his eyes are still soft and tender as he walks further into the room.

“ _она ангел_ ,” Natasha whispers.

“Hey, hey,” Tony warns. “English or we walk, okay? Pass the kid along, Barnes, we don’t have all day.”

Natasha settles the baby in her arms without hesitation, and kisses her forehead lovingly. “Beautiful.”

This, Tony thinks as he leans back into Steve’s chest to watch the rest of his family collectively lose their shit over their new member, is so damn good for his ego.

\- - - - -

“… and then there’s uncle Agent, who doesn’t stop by as often as he used to, but that’s bound to change when he finally meets you, you little cutie. He’ll just– Steve, the door.“

"I sure hope our daughter doesn’t get her manners from you,” Steve mutters, pushing the door to their bedroom open and dropping the carrier by the bed.

Tony just grins down at the baby. “Papa’s just cranky ‘cause he hasn’t had a good chance to hold you all day."

In her sleep, their daughter’s tiny lips curl into the smallest of smiles.

"I’m happy enough watching you hold her, y'know,” Steve says. “I think I could do it for the rest of my life. ” He falls gently on the bed, turning sideways, and Tony follows wordlessly, nestling their baby between them. She squirms and whimpers for a second or two, but then falls right back to sleep with a sigh.

“You’re extra sappy today,” Tony finally says. “And that’s saying something, 'cause I’ve got permanent cavities from these past three years.”

“Is it sappy if it’s true?”

“ _That_ was sappy.”

Steve hums thoughtfully, and reaches out to run a hand through Tony’s hair. “I’m serious.”

“Steve–”

“I love you, sweetheart, so much.”

Tony can only nod, helpless to the keep his eyes from stinging.

“Thank you for giving us this, Tony.”

“It’s all you, babe,” he whispers fiercely, and means it with everything he has. “She’s _all_ you.”

“I hope not,” Steve shakes his head. “God, you don’t even… I hope she has your heart, y’know… And your brain. I hope she has your spirit. I hope she gets your stubbornness and your wit; I hope she gets your attitude, and your joy of life. I hope she gets that look in your eye when you think of something new and extraordinary. I hope I see you in everything she does, ‘cause you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tony doesn’t manage to keep the tears from falling down his cheeks, but they’re quickly wiped away by gentle fingers. “I love you too,“ he breathes, and God knows he’s never meant it more than he does now. "Even with all this sap, you fucking meatball.”

“Hey, shush– you’ll wake her,” Steve says, both of them stifling their laughter behind their hands, and for the rest of the day, the world outside their bed falls away.

\- - - - -

Christmas morning, surprisingly, comes with the soft, low coos from the crib next to the bed. It’s loud enough to wake them both, but not in the loud, piercing way they’d been dreading.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Tony feels Steve mumble into his hair, and he leans back for a short kiss before pulling climbing out of the mountain of covers and reaching over to pull their daughter out of her crib and down between them.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, smiling at his husband, then presses his lips to his daughter’s cheek. “Best present right here, huh? Yes you are, princess, just the best.”

“Uh huh,” Steve nods, eyes going wide when they meet the baby’s. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

Their daughter wiggles and clenches her tiny fists, her bright blue gaze– the same shade of blue Tony’s lucky enough to get to see every day– running in every direction. “God, can we just ditch the others today and stay here?”

“I thought you’d want to see ‘em gushing over her some more,” Steve laughs. “Besides, Christmas mornings are for family.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” he pouts; they both know he only half meant it, anyway.

“I know.”

“And it’s not like we don’t get to keep her the rest of the time, right?”

“Yep,” Steve nods, still smiling.

“Alright,” Tony nods decisively, and sits up to leave the bed. “If that’s the way we’re doing it, hold the fort. I’ll be right back.”

“Tony–”

“Gimme a minute, I just…” he trails off, running to their baby’s room to find what he’s looking for.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, when he returns.

“Nothing. I just remember about something I ordered, for Baby’s First Christmas, and all,” he grins, and pulls out the onesie from behind his back. “Ta-da!”

Blue eyes stare back at him in disbelief, before lighting up with glee. “You bought our daughter a _knitted sweater onesie_?”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, reigning in his laughter in the face of his husband’s ridiculously adorable excitement. “I figured it’d only be a matter of time before you’d go ahead and get one– and honey, I love you, but I can’t even imagine the kind of thing you’d bring in here.”

“…That was unnecessarily expensive, wasn’t it?”

“It was made in America?”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “Sweetheart…”

“Yes, okay, this is designer, but don’t even tell me you’re not dying to put her in it. The team’s going to lose their shit.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Tony’s heart almost hurts with happiness. “Love you too, cupcake. Now pick her up– chop chop, Cap, this is gonna be one hell of a Christmas!”

_And it is._


	102. The one where... there's no such thing as TOO ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #14: "Have you lost your mind?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Um, no?”

“You can’t wear this,” Tony announces. “There’s no way I’m letting you leave my house--”

“ _Our_ house--”

“-- looking like this. I won’t let you.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, and for once, Tony isn’t bothered by the exasperated look on his boyfriend’s face because really, he’ll take anything over having to look at the travesty Steve’s wearing. “It’s better than yours,” Steve gestures at Tony’s glaringly red sweater, at the black letters wishing a ‘ _Merry F*ckin’ Christmas!_ ’.

Tony rolls his eyes. “You wish.”

“Tony--”

“Jesus Christ, I’m embarrassed just standing next to you.”

“It’s supposed to be ugly!”

“This isn’t ugly, babe,” Tony reaches out to tug at Steve’s sleeve. “This is...”

“Cute?” Steve grins cheekily, and Tony’s lips are quirking up before he can stop them.

“You _would_ pick something like this.”

“I like it.”

“I can’t believe I like _you_ ,” Tony grumbles, but when Steve drops his arms to tug him closer, he goes without a fight.

“Good, ‘cause I like you too,” Steve whispers against his lips, and presses them together a second later. It’s slow and soft and comfortingly familiar, and Tony revels in the rush of warmth that runs down his spine.

“I’m not getting you out of this thing, am I?” he asks, when they’ve finally pulled away.

“Nope.”

“Come on, then,” he sighs. “Let’s go get this party over with.”

“You don’t gotta sound so enthusiastic,” Steve laughs, but when they walk out their door, his hand is warm and perfect around Tony’s.

\- - - - -

“There is something seriously wrong with them,” Tony says, snuggled against Steve in a corner of Natasha’s living room hours later. The rest of their friends are all scattered around the room, drinking and talking and playing, and it’s almost enough to distract him from the garish ribbon across Steve’s chest proclaiming him the ‘ _Ugly Sweater Champion!_ ’.

“Jealous ‘cause you didn’t win?” Steve chuckles, and Tony pulls away to glare at him.

“The fact that you look and sound so proud of this,” he pokes the ribbon, “is honestly making me question this relationship.”

“And here I thought you loved me.”

“Thinking twice about that now.”

Steve looks down at Tony, eyes bright and twinkling from the Christmas lights strung all around the room, and then curves his lips into that thrillingly familiar smirk. “Lemme remind you, then,” is all Tony gets to hear him say before he’s pressed into the wall and kissed the way Steve only ever kisses him in the bedroom: deeply and hard and utterly _filthy_ , with a determination that’s almost frantic in its intensity, and Tony reciprocates almost immediately. A faint, distant part of him is aware of their noises they’re suddenly making-- little gasps and deep breaths that would almost be embarrassing, if he ever bothered to give a fuck about any of that-- but then Steve takes one step closer and turns his head _just so_ , and Tony’s knees all but give up on him.

It feels like hours before Tony wrenches his lips from Steve’s, only to let out one last moan when he looks up and finds those baby blues dark with hunger. “Okay, y-yeah,” he gasps. “I remember...”

“Good,” Steve whispers, as rough as the hand cupping Tony’s jaw is gentle.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Take me home,” Tony says-- he’s not quite begging, but every cell in his body’s sure as hell screaming that he might as well be-- and Steve’s grip finds Tony’s not a moment after, pulling him from the wall and towards the door.

“You guys are nauseating and this is the last party we’re inviting you to!” Clint yells at them as they cross the room, even as the rest of their friends share knowing looks.

“Jealous, Barton?” Tony asks.

“You wish!”

“Don’t do him too hard, Rogers! This party’s still goin’, and these walls ain’t thick,” Barnes waggles his eyebrows; Tony doesn’t miss the flush that blooms on Steve’s cheeks and disappears down the neck of that god-awful sweater.

“Better turn the music up, then,” he says loudly, and just barely gets to wink at them all before Steve’s drags them out the apartment. “God, I love it when you get all hot and bothered.”

“I can take us back, if you want.”

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, just as they arrive at their door, and with a low, deliciously rough groan, Steve pushes him into it. “C’mon, honey bunny, chop chop. Get me in there so you can get in me.”

“Oh god, Tony.”

“I’ll even let you rip this sweater off me.”

“You just wanna get me outta this thing, dontcha?”

Tony grins. “To be fair, I alway wanna get you out of your clothes.”

“Charmer,” Steve sighs, pressing his lips to the tip of Tony’s nose, and even with Tony’s blood still burning and singing beneath his skin, he feels his heart give a bright, sappy lurch. 

Which is probably why the ‘ _I love you_ ’ that falls from his lips comes out quiet and whisper-soft.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Steve tells him, and when they finally make it into their apartment, his smile is brighter than anything Tony’s seen all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so idk how to link things on here, but this is Steve's sweater: http://d1x7zurbps6occ.cloudfront.net/product/xlarge/265033-96442.jpg
> 
> and this is Tony's: http://www.uglychristmassweater.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/merry-christmas-naughty-ugly-sweater.jpg


	103. The one where... Steve's a dork. No surprise.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #15: "What were you aiming at?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"What were you aiming at?!"

“That branch right there!”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Jesus Christ,” Barnes sighs, just as Steve steps in front of Clint’s drawn bow.

“Outta my way, Cap,” Clint says.

“Clint--”

“Don’t think I can make it? Nat tell ‘em-- I can make it with my eyes closed.”

“If you shoot this tree down,” Tony tells him around half a mouthful of popcorn, “I’m kickin’ you out.”

“I just want my ornament in the best branch! Does no one have faith in me?”

“I do!” Wilson calls out from across the room, tangled Christmas lights all around him. “Better safe than sorry though, pal, so I’m with everyone on this.”

“I hate you all,” Clint grumbles, even as Tony catches the familiar, relaxed quirk at the corner of his lips. 

“Sure you do, Tweety bird,” he says, “now why don’t you get over here and help me string all this popcorn, huh?”

“How come _we_ get stuck doing the boring shit?”

“Are you seriously complaining about sticking a string through popcorn?” Natasha sighs.

“I’m just asking!”

“Wanna tell that to Rogers’ puppy eyes?” Barnes asks, snickering when Clint lets out a quiet curse.

“How’re the decorations looking, Brucie bear?” Tony calls out.

“They’re fine, Tony.”

“Did you find–hey, no, Cap, a little to the left… Perfect.” he tells Steve, who sets the tree back down with a bright, boyish grin, and Tony’s chest blooms with a familiar, all-encompassing warmth.

“Can I take out my ornaments now?” Steve asks, and even though Tony knows what’s coming, he still shrugs.

“Knock yourself out, champ.”

Barnes leans toward the bag Steve put in the corner of the couch. “I’m kinda curiou-- _what the fuck is this?_ ”

Tony feels laughter bubble up inside him, and catches Steve’s eye just as Barnes pulls out the first of the ornaments. “Steve... you _didn’t._ ”

“They’re cute,” Steve mumbles, just as the entire room erupts in laughter at the sight of half a dozen Avengers ornaments tumbling to the floor as Barnes tips the bag over.

“ _Meeeeeee_!” Clint screams, popcorn garland immediately forgotten as he scrambles across the floor and swipes his purple Hawkeye look-alike. “Wilson, catch!”

“I have wings!”

“Heads up, Banner!”

There’s a gentle smile on Bruce’s face as he runs curious fingers down the side of the little green Hulk. “I didn’t even know they had these.”

“Trust Cap to find ‘em anyway,” Tony laughs, throwing a popcorn Steve’s way.

“I thought you’d all like ‘em,” Steve rubs the back of his neck bashfully, only to huff out s chuckle when Natasha leans over to ruffle his hair.

“They’re cute,” she says. “ _и вы сладки._ ”

“This shit doesn’t even shine,” Barnes sniffs in offense, holding up his gray-armed Winter Soldier. “I guess it’s okay, though...”

“I call top branch!” Clint calls out, and deftly catches the Falcon ornament Wilson throws him.

“Second top!”

“Bruce, toss me yours! Nat, you too-- oh my god, send a pic to Rhodes, I’m-- hey, where’s Cap’s and Stark’s? Barnes, check under the couch...”

“Where’d you wanna put yours?” Tony hears, warm and low and close in his ear, and he pops kernel in his mouth as he turns and finds a tiny Cap and Iron Man staring at him, and beyond them, Steve’s soft, playful grin.

“You’re such a fucking meatball,” he says. “Who does this, Steve?”

“You sure were singin’ a different tune when I first showed ‘em to ya, Shellhead.”

“So what if I like them, okay?” Steve looks so pleased, he’s almost smug, and Tony doesn’t hesitate to throw another popcorn at him, rolling his eyes when Steve catches it easily with his mouth. “Don’t let Barton pick their spot-- he’ll probably hide ‘em in the back.”

“I don’t mind where I end up,” Steve winks, “as long as it’s next to you.”

“Shut up,” is all Tony says, but hours later, when the tree stands complete in the Stark Tower living room, he can’t help the pathetically giddy grin at the sight of Captain America and Iron Man hanging side by side for all to see.

On the top branch, of course.

(Take _that_ , Barton.)


	104. The one where... Steve is there on Tony's worst day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #16: "Did you think I forgot?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad one here, folks. I had to. :(
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of character death. (Not our boys, don't worry!)

“Did you think I forgot?”

It takes Tony longer than he’d have liked to gather the courage and look over his shoulder when hears Steve’s voice. “I was hoping for it, not gonna lie,” he says softly, swallowing the lump in his throat-- it’s not the first time he’s done it today, and he knows it won’t be the last-- at the pain he finds in those baby blues.

“Tony...”

“Need something, Cap? I’m kind of... busy,” he waves his hand weakly at the space around him, at the empty balcony and the cold, winter winds that’ve been seeping into his skin for God knows how long.

“Thought you might.... I dunno, maybe you’d like some company. I-- I brought you a blanket, but I can just-- I can leave it if, if you want--”

“Yeah,” Tony whispers, patting the space next to him, and closes his eyes when he feels a warm weight settling on his shoulders. “Yeah... okay.”

“Tony?”

“Hmmm?”

“What do you need?”

“I need you to not say anything,” Tony rasps. He’s no longer cold, but every part of him still feels numb from a grief he knows he’ll never be rid of. “I’ve heard it all, by now.”

Steve obeys, and Tony breathes painfully in relief.

“I can’t, uh... The year it happened, that Christmas, I can’t-- can’t remember a single fucking second of it, y’know. The next one was, um... just as bad, to be honest,” he lets out a broken, bitter laugh. “I’m... sometimes, I’m so fucking glad I can’t remember. I spent a couple of the other years away-- those ended up being worse, actually. It’s easier now, but... Anyway, I’m-- I think I’m better now? Well, maybe that’s... not the right word. But at least I’m not drinking myself half dead anymore, and I can actually set foot in the cemetery without fucking losing it. But I still miss her. And that’ll never go away... will it?”

“No,” Steve finally says, and it’s nothing Tony doesn’t already know, but it makes his eyes burn nonetheless.

He doesn’t bother wiping them dry.

“There’s so much I never got to tell them,” he whispers. His tears are hot as they run down his cheeks, but still they don’t chase the chill from his bones. “So much I did, and said, that I wish I could take back. Twenty-five years, and all I can... all I can do is fucking sit here. God...”

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me.”

With stinging, blurry eyes, Tony does.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

“Is there... something I can do?”

Tony nods. There’s no room for being a coward tonight. “Stay? Just f-for...” _for tonight. Forever..._ “A little while.”

“As long as you want me to,” Steve replies, and when his hand finds Tony’s, the cold feels a little farther away.


	105. The one where... Tony gets invited to the Rogers' for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #17: "I'm asking you to stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"I'm asking you to stay.”

“Steve...”

“Only if you want to, obviously,” Steve says shyly, fiddling with his ridiculously big fingers, and Tony buries the urge to reach out and intertwine them with his own. “I know my Ma would love to have ya.”

“Obviously,” Tony grins, with more aplomb than he feels. “Your mom loves me.”

“Yeah, it runs in the family,” Steve chuckles, and Tony doesn’t know if it’s that sound or what Steve’d said, that makes his chest bloom with more warmth.

“Okay, take it down a notch, you meatball,” he mutters.

“So you’ll come?”

“Guess I don’t have a choice, huh?”

Steve shakes his head as he jumps up from his chair, and really, Tony thinks, no one should look so gorgeous with such a ridiculously giddy grin. “Okay, we’re gonna-- it’s... three o’clock, we can leave in an hour, do you need help packing? I can help--”

“I’m a big boy, Rogers,” Tony laughs. “I can do it myself.”

“Right, sorry,” Steve says sheepishly, cheeks a delicious shade of pink as he throws on his coat. “I’m gonna run down to my room to get my things, alright? I’ll be back in five.”

“Take your time, big guy. Really.”

“Sorry, ‘m just excited.”

“It’s just Christmas,” Tony tells him. There’s a faint, barely there ache in his chest when he thinks about Christmas at the ol’ Stark mansion, but then Steve’s smile softens into Tony’s favorite smile-- that tiny, happy curve of those lips that he’s wanted to kiss for years-- and Tony’s heart gives a familiar, pathetic little lurch.

“Christmas with you,” Steve says, then leaves the room with a quick kiss to Tony’s forehead.

\- - - - -

“Thank you.”

The car is silent when Steve speaks, and Tony looks away from the gray, tree-filled view beyond the window to meet baby blue eyes.

“Pretty sure I should be telling you that,” he says, but Steve shakes his head and shifts his grip on the steering wheel.

“I know it might not... It’s probably not what you’re used to--”

“Steve--”

“-- but I hope you have a good time. I do want you to... to feel at home. Like I feel when I’m with you.”

" _You’re an idiot_ ,” Tony rasps, blinking before the sudden sting in his eyes can turn into tears, and breathes through the wave of love that fills his chest until he can barely breathe. “How could I not have a good time, huh? You’ll be there.”

Steve spares him a long, deep glance before looking back at the road, and there’s a smile on his face Tony doesn’t think he’ll be able to get rid of.

Not that he’d ever want to.

“So... are we there yet?” he asks with a smirk.

“Don’t start, mister.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Have a snack.”

“ _Real food_ , Steve.”

“If you can wait an hour, you’ll get all the helpings of my Ma’s Irish Stew you can stomach.”

“The things I do for you Rogers’,” Tony mutters, peeling the wrapper off a granola bar with relish as Steve’s chuckles fill the tiny car.

“Love ya too, Shellhead.”

The drive is quiet for a few minutes after that, but it’s not long before Tony feels something stirring in his chest, and when he can’t ignore it, he makes sure his eyes are nowhere close to meeting Steve’s. “Thank you,” is all he says, and if he’d said it to anyone else, he would’ve cursed the way the words come out low and hesitant.

But Steve’s voice comes back just as softly, as warmth as the hand that finds Tony’s. “Merry Christmas, Tony.”

“Back atcha, Steve.”


	106. The one where... Steve and Tony get taken care of. For once.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #18: "You're only on the naughty list if you get caught!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"You're only on the naughty list if you get caught!"

“...No!”

“Dat’s wrong...”

“I regret calling you up here,” Natasha mutters, rolling her eyes as Clint grins at her over the scandalized faces of their pint-sized team leaders.

“Tasha!” Steve calls out, waving a hand frantically in front of her face like she could ever miss him.

“Yes, _малютка_?”

“No, ’m Steeb!” He pouts, and James’ loud cackles echo from the kitchen. From his perch beside Steve, little Tony stares at her in confusion, cuddling the Captain America plush in his arms closer to his chest.

“My mistake,” she smiles down at him. “You were saying?”

“He’s lyin’,” Steve points to Clint. “You’re not s’pposed t’be naughty! Ma said y’should be good _all the time._ ”

“Naughty Clint, huh?” Natasha teases, and when both boys start nodding enthusiastically, she smirks through the swell of affection that blooms in her chest for them. “He’ll be getting a good lump of coal, then.”

“Uh huh,” Steve says, blue eyes somber and serious at first, until they soften when he turns to face Tony. “I wanna Iron Man like Tony’s Cap!”

“We can share,” Tony gives him a smile as he holds the plush out, and Steve shuffles closer until the toy is squished in between them.

“Only til’ I get Iron Man, ‘kay? He’s m’favorite,” he says proudly.

Tony’s smile is shy and pleased all at once. “Cap’s m’fav’rite...”

“I’m gonna barf,” Clint mutters, low enough that only Natasha can hear him. “Honestly, I dunno why I expected anything else.”

“ _уходи._ ”

“That hurts, Tash.”

“I will end you.”

“‘m hungwy,” Tony says, and Natasha smiles yet again at the familiarly determined set of Steve’s tiny jaw as he looks up as well.

“We’re taking care of that, _мальчиков_ ,” she says, just as James enters the room with a grin on his face, and a plate piled with brightly decorated--

“Cookies!” Steve crows, tapping Tony’s arm excitedly. “Tony, cookies!”

“You’re going to ruin them, Jesus,” Clint groans, but there’s a softness in his eyes as the boys finally settle all the way into the couch, the Captain America plush temporarily forgotten between them as they focus on the little plates set upon their laps. Steve bites the head off his gingerbread cookie with relish, eyes wide and happy as he chews, and at Tony’s ensuing giggles, Natasha feels a long forgotten corner of her heart soften just a little bit. 

Which is why she just rolls her eyes when James appears behind the back of the couch and drops matching Santa hats on their tiny heads. “ _дурак_.”

“Jarvis, you getting this?” Clint chuckles.

“ _Recording for posterity, sir,_ ” comes the unmistakably amused voice, and with a shout, Tony grins up at the ceiling, suddenly looking more lively than he has all day.

“JARBIS!” he calls out, and Steve’s quick to send a wave, crumbly and sugary as his hand is.

“Hi, JARBIS!”

“Adorable little punks,” James mutters, only to be glared at by tiny baby blues.

“Tony’s not a punk!”

“No, sorry, of course he’s not. Sorry.”

They all share knowing looks as Tony’s smile softens at Steve’s defense, offering him half of his last cookie, and when Steve accepts it with a giddy grin of his own, Natasha finds there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.


	107. The one where... the Jameses make Steve and Tony's night a little more interesting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #19: "Just so we're clear, was it your James or my James?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"Just so we're clear, was it your James or my James?"

“Both.”

“And where--” Tony clears his throat to smother the laughter threatening to break through, and works his arms through the sleeves of the coat Steve’s holding out for him. “Where, uh, are they?”

“ _Tony._ ”

“What?”

Steve steps around Tony, and pulls him in to button the coat. “You’re enjoyin’ this, aren’t ya?”

Tony doesn’t bother denying it, and just leans up to peck at his boyfriend’s jaw. “Don’t pretend you’re not, snookums.”

“There’s nothin’ fun about our friends being arrested,” Steve says, even as the corner of his lips quirks up into that tiny crooked smile Tony loves so much. 

"You can't fool me, babe."

"...You ready?"

"We can always just blow them off and, y’know..." Tony leers, sneaking a hand down past Steve's belt and relishing the gorgeous blush his actions produce.

"You were looking forward to this just a second ago, Tony."

"Party pooper."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

\- - - - -

" _Steeeeeeeeeeeve!_ "

"Sweet Mary," Steve sighs, fingers tightening around Tony's as they're led to the only occupied cell in the station.

" _Steee_ \-- hey, _Starrrrk_!"

"...Tony?"

Tony sees the familiar bulk of his best friend stumble to the front of the cell. "In the flesh, buddy."

Dark eyes furrow in confusion. "Wh-what're you... hi."

“So, either of you wanna tell us how you ended up here?” Tony asks, and tries not to feel like a parent being called in to their child’s school.

Rhodey blinks. "B'cause..."

"We were arr...arrest'd," Barnes says.

"Obviously."

"What happened?" Steve asks.

"We took th' bastard's chair."

"Who, Buck?"

"Th'... r-red, beardy sunnuvabitch!"

"...Oh my god, you did _not._ "

"We had to!" Rhodey yells, only to groan and hang his head a second later. "Shit..."

"Talk," Steve orders them.

“We had t’do it b’cause--” Barnes hiccups, face pressed against a cell bar, and waves his hand in Rhodey’s direction. “ _Rhodeyyyyyyy_ , tell’m-- tell’m why,” he says loudly, and then grunts when Rhodey stumbles into his back. “Rhod-- tell’m!”

Tony grins unabashedly at the pair, and then sneaks a glance at Steve from the corner of his eye; thick arms crossed over that deliciously muscled chest, lips pressed together tightly... but his eyes are dancing with unmistakable mirth, and Tony feels his heart give a pathetically happy little lurch before he turns his focus back to his friends.

Rhodey’s eyes-- half-lidded and hazy from alcohol-- meet Tony’s and then Steve’s resolutely, before he sticks his head in between the bars, and says: “He s-sits’n a throne... of _liiiiiiiiiiies_!”

Steve loses it.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Tony mutters, taking in the loud, uncontrollable laughter that has Steve doubled over, the wide blue of Barnes’ eyes as he nods frantically, and the low, incoherent mumbles leaving Rhodey’s lips. “Steve--”

“S-sorry,” his boyfriend gasps, shoulders heaving a couple of times before he straightens back up. “Shit, I’m--”

“Hopeless, Jesus Christ,” Tony rolls his eyes, and steps closer to the bars separating them from their best friends. “Rhodey, what the fuck are you talking abou--”

“Santa!” Rhodey wails. His knuckles are pale from how hard he’s gripping the bars. “Sits’n a th-thro--”

“Throne,” Barnes says helpfully.

“‘f _lies._ ”

“Buck,” Steve sighs, and bless his heart, he isn’t even trying to hide his amusement. “What happened?”

Barnes shrugs. “Dunno, b’t see, wh-what had h-happened was... we wuzzat, um--”

“Th’bar.”

Barnes nods. “‘n oka--okay, we, we might’ve h-had one t’many.”

“Understatement,” Steve says under his breath, only to furrow his brow in pretend seriousness when Barnes and Rhodey both glare at him. “And then?”

“‘n then w’left, ‘n we was, um, w-walking, ‘n we... saw ‘ _im_.”

“An’ I--” Rhodey closes his eyes as he moans pitifully. Tony almost feels bad for him.

“‘e d-dared me t’take a picture,” Barnes mutters, miming the action a second later, “with Santaaaaa--”

“ _Liiiiiiar_!” Rhodey crows. 

“--’n then I wen’ up t’him, an’...” he narrows his eyes as his lips thin into a menacing line. “He--”

“Tell’m!”

“H-he smelled’f beef’n cheese!”

“Oh Jesus,” Steve sighs, running a hand through his face. “Buck--”

“Santa’s s’pposed-- ‘s supposed t’smell like...” Barnes taps the iron bars thoughtfully.

“Cinnamon?” Tony finally speaks up.

But Barnes shakes his head. “Nonooooono, no cin’mon... _Cinnamon_. ‘n p-pine cones. ‘n, um, trees?”

“Chr’smas trees,” Rhodey nods. 

“Chr’smas trees,” Barnes repeats. “‘n cold. Not _beef’n cheese_!”

Steve rolls his eyes. “So you stole his chair, Buck?”

“‘s not h’s chairrrr!” 

“Mr. Stark?” says someone behind them, and when Tony turns, it’s to find what’s sure to be half the precinct enjoying the show. 

“My lawyers are three minutes away,” he says, only to see the chief shake his head.

“The store’s not pressing charges-- they were gonna get rid of the chair anyway. But, um, you understand we can’t let this kind of behavior go unpunished.”

“You won’t have to,” Steve says, and Tony grins because oh, he knows that voice. “How’s fifty hours of community service?”

Barnes curses.

The chief, on the other hand, looks awed. “ _Fifty_?”

By now, Steve’s moved right beside Tony, shoulders brushing each other, and the smile on his face is pure, unadulterated charm. “No, better yet... Make it a hundred.”

Rhodey groans. “ _Rog-ers..._ ”

“Sounds good? Yes? Okay,” Tony claps. “We’ll be leaving now.”

“B-but _Santaaaa_!”

“Zip it, Buck,” Steve says, rolling his eyes when Barnes stumbles over to him as soon as the cell door is opened. “If Ma could see you now--”

“Shhh,” Barnes winces. “Yer s’loud...”

“What?!” Steve says, more than a little louder than he’d been talking a second ago, and Tony somehow manages to resist the urge to kiss him for it.

Their friends glare pitifully. “Hate y’both,” Rhodey grumbles, but doesn’t pull away when Tony leads him out the door.

“We should make the two of ya walk home,” Steve says. “We were right in the middle of our dinner date.”

“He made Carbonara,” Tony sighs, and watches with pleasure as Rhodey and Barnes’ faces fall.

“Shit...”

“‘m s’rry, Tones.”

“You’ll be sorry enough tomorrow morning,” he says gleefully, and shares a grin with Steve over their friends’ heads. 

“It’ll almost be worth the trouble we’re goin’ through now, huh?” Steve asks. 

“I’ll make it up to you later, darling.”

“Back atcha, handsome.”

“Ugh, can y’maybe n’t t-talk ‘bout this now?” Barnes groans, pressing a shaky hand to his eyes. “Don’ wanna hear about y’guys...”

“‘s so _wroooong_!” Rhodey mumbles into Tony’s shoulder.

“Then you better find someone else to bunk with tonight,” Tony says, slowly so that they understand every word. “Because Steve’s a screamer.”

“ _Tony_!”

“Aw fuck!”

“ _Nooooooo..._ ”

“Merry Christmas,” he says, and with a fond roll of his eyes, Steve leads the out into the cold, winter night.


	108. The one where... Steve and Tony can always count on their family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #21: "Ankle's definitely broken. Sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Ankle’s definitely broken. Sorry.”

“Tell me, Doc-- will I ever walk again?”

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve hisses, hands clenched into fists to keep them from reaching out for Tony’s hand. The panic that’d erupted in his chest hours before-- he doesn’t thing he’ll ever be able to forget the sight of Tony falling and falling, all blood red and gleaming gold like the Sun-- has only just started fading away, and Steve knows it’ll be a while before he stops feeling it.

“I’m kidding, Cap,” Tony gives him a familiar, charming grin, but the bandage wrapped around his chest blooms pink in more places than it ever should, so Steve can’t even summon a smile in return.

“Is he... will he be okay?” he asks the SHIELD doctor in front of them, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice, and catches Tony’s smile turn to a frown out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course, Captain,” the doctor replies with a friendly, sympathetic smile. “But he will have to remain here for the next two or three days.”

It’s nothing either of them doesn’t already know, but Steve still feels disappointment wash over him like a wave, and when he turns back to face Tony, he knows he’s not the only one. “Thank you, ma’am,” he tells the doctor, sighing as she nods before leaving the room.

“Steve--”

“How are you feelin’?”

Tony nods. “Lucky,” he replies, hesitant and quiet and everything he so rarely is, and even with the anger and the fear still wreaking havoc on his chest, all Steve wants to do is climb onto that hospital bed and sweep Tony into his arms. “Are you, um... are you staying?” Tony whispers, sounding as small as he looks, and that’s exactly what Steve does.

“It’s Christmas Eve, where else would I be?” is all he says, careful not to jostle Tony too much as he arranges their bodies to fit together, and breathes in relief when he’s not pushed away. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“But--”

“Get some rest,” he whispers into Tony’s hair. “ _Please_.”

“...Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sorry,” Tony tells him, and Steve closes his eyes against the sting of his tears.

“I know you’re not. Now sleep.”

“‘kay.”

\- - - - -

Hours later, Steve closes his burning, tear-stained eyes, and lets sleep take him too.

\- - - - -

“ _Wakey, wakey..._ ”

“ _Shut it, Barton. Let him sleep._ ”

“ _I’m hungry! And the coffee’s getting cold._ ”

“ _...Is that my present?_ ”

“ _Don’t count on it, buddy. We should be giving you coal, for that shit you pulled yesterday._ ”

“ _Oh, not you too!_ ”

“ _Nat, hold me back before I punch him._ ”

Steve opens his eyes to warm, soft light, and a familiar scruffy jaw purpled with bruises.

“ _Oh, thank God,_ ” he hears Wilson mumble. “ _He’s awake. Showtime, guys! Pass the food, pass the presents._ ”

“ _Who’s got napkins?_ ”

“ _Over here, Banner!_ ”

“ _Where’s th-- aw shit, they forgot the ketchup again!_ ”

“ _How will you go on?_ ” Bucky mutters from somewhere in the room.

“ _Shut up and gimme my burger._ ”

“Morning, sunshine,” Tony’s voice is low and whisper-soft against Steve’s temple, and he looks up to find the brunet smiling down at him. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

“What?”

“Pretty sure Fury knows about the tree by now, but hey, they’re all still here, so...”

Steve lifts his cheek from Tony’s shoulder, and finally faces the small crowd around them. “What’s all this?” he asks, eyes moving over every corner of the room; at the string lights and the tinsel hanging from corner to corner, the exquisitely cut paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling, and finally... the miniature Christmas tree atop the same chair he’d been sitting in last night.

“Pretty sure they still had Christmas back in your day,” Tony replies.

Steve can only nod. “But...”

“You didn’t think we would stay home, did you?” Natasha asks quietly. Her eyes are softer than Steve can remember them being in a long time, and he feels his chest grow warm with affection. “ _глупый человек_... Christmas is for family.”

“You’re all bat shit crazy,” Tony mutters, even as the awe in his voice is unmistakeable. 

“Pot, kettle.”

“Alright, enough dilly-dally,” Bucky calls out. “Stevie, sit up-- Stark, don’t fucking move.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Tony says, and Steve’s takes advantage of it, moving his head back to Tony’s shoulder. It’s warm and real and very much alive, and as the rest of their team-- their family-- focus on the food and company once more, he sends a quick prayer of thanks. “Steve?”

“Hmmm?”

“...You okay?”

“I will be,” he replies, and despite the fact that he can still feel the remnants of _painfearpanic_ brushing against his heart, he knows it’s true. “But you can bet we’ll be having words later, Shellhead.”

“Until then...” Tony whispers. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Steve responds, and revels in the peace that fills his lungs when he feels Tony’s hand find his.


	109. The one where... there's finally something Steve sucks at, but Tony still loves him. Obviously.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #21: "I need you here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"I need you here."

“I‘m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Good. Pass me the tape.”

“One strip?”

“Uh huh,” Tony says carefully, eyes locked on the wrapped box in front of him as he sticks out a finger in Steve’s direction. “ _Today_ , Cap! If she wakes up--”

“She won’t,” Steve says softly. “She sleeps like the dead.”

“Sounds like someone I know.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You _would_ ,” Tony chuckles, finally picking up his finished product and presenting it to his husband. “Another one bites the dust.”

“You’re a dork and I love you,” Steve whispers, leaning over the pile of their daughter’s gifts to press a quick kiss to Tony’s lips.

“Mmmm.. right back atcha, stud,” Tony purrs, reveling in the rush of warmth that runs through him at the way those baby blues twinkle from the lights around the Christmas tree. “Shitty wrapping skills and everything.”

“I’m not _that_ bad,” Steve says sheepishly.

“Whatever you say,” Tony coos, patting his cheek before pulling back. “So, Mr. Man-With-A-Plan, think you can find some space under there for these babies?”

His husband squares his shoulders, and gives him an exaggeratedly serious look. “I’m on it, Iron Man.”

“My hero.”

“Sure you don’t want to help me?”

“Nah, I’ll just enjoy the view. I think I’ve earned it,” Tony waggles his eyebrows playfully.

Steve just rolls his eyes, and begins rearranging the presents beneath the tree. “Y’know, every year, I think there’s no possible way we can have more gifts under here, and every year, I’m proven wrong.”

“Aw, does it rankle your delicate, nonagenarian sensibilities?” Tony teases, but when Steve looks back at him, his lips are quirked up into Tony’s favorite smile.

“Nowadays, all I can think about is how lucky I am. Havin’ this much, back then... God, I couldn’t even dream about it.” 

“You deserve it, baby,” Tony tells him, because he just needs to. 

Because it’s true.

“Wouldn’t mean a thing without you, though,” Steve says.

“Steve...”

“You know that, right?”

Tony nods, and when Steve crawls over to sit next to him again, he doesn’t bother trying pointing out that there are still more than a dozen presents still scattered around the floor. “I’m used to... this,” he waves his hand around their general area, “but it-- it means something now.” he whispers, breathing through the lump in his throat when he’s pulled into warm, familiar arms. 

“I think I fell in love with you a little more tonight,” Steve whispers into his ear.

“Yeah?” Tony asks breathlessly.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, if I’d known wrapping paper turned you on this much--”

“Shut _up_!” Steve laughs, and Tony feels the sound all the way down to his toes. “You’re ruining the moment!”

“I’ll make it up to you later tonight,” Tony promises, cuddling further into Steve’s chest. “But for now, you’re stuck with me here.”

“Can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be,” Steve says, and leans down to capture Tony’s lips with a smile.


	110. The one where... Steve and Tony enjoy a late night chat and it's TOTALLY A SLEEPOVER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #22: "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Chapter 105! :D
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Probably not.”

“Steve!”

“It’s two in the mornin’, Tony.”

“...and?”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Don’t wear my name out, Rogers.”

“Oh my god...”

“Come _onnnnnn_ ,” Tony whines, and with a sigh, Steve turns around until they’re face to face, taking in the gleam in Tony’s eyes from the moonlight streaming in from his window. “Hi, there.”

“Hi,” he says, and his lips curve up into a smile before he can think to fight it. He can barely keep his eyes open, but Tony’s grin still takes his breath away.

“I can’t sleep.”

“And I gotta pay the price for that?”

“Obviously,” Tony rolls his eyes.

“See if I ever invite you over for Christmas again.”

“You’re adorable when you’re grumpy.”

Steve know the glare he gives Tony is absolutely weak. “‘m not grumpy.”

“See? Adorable.”

“Tony.”

“Hmm?”

“Count some sheep.”

“That doesn’t work,” Tony whines, and Steve barely resists the urge to lean over and kiss the pout off his face. “I’ve tried _everything._ ”

“Okay, try this,” Steve sighs. “Close your eyes.”

“Did that already--”

“Do it again.”

Tony waggles his eyebrows before obeying. “Oooh, bossy. That’s hot.”

“Tony, I swear to God...”

“Fine, eyes closed,” Tony grumbles, and Steve feels a rush of familiar fondness at how young he suddenly looks, one corner of his lips quirked up into a small most people probably would’ve missed. “What now?” 

“Tell me... your favorite Christmas song.”

“...Really?” Tony furrows his brow even as his eyes stay closed.

“Yep.”

“Steve...”

“Come on, mister,” Steve whispers. “I’ll tell you mine.”

“What is it?”

“The Drifters-- ‘White Christmas’,” he admits, chuckling when Tony’s smile grows into a knowing grin.

“If you tell me you used to sing it in front of the mirror after you showered, I’m gonna fucking lose it!”

“...I was little, okay?” Steve says, and feels his heart skip a beat when Tony cackles into his pillow, all thoughts of sleep forgotten for the both of them. “Oh, like you never did anything like that!”

“You’re s-such a dork, holy sh-shit,” Tony gasps, a single, gleaming eye peeking out his way. “ _How are you real?_ ”

“You’re tryin’ to distract me and it’s not gonna work,” Steve says.

“Who, _me_?”

“No other annoying geniuses around here.”

“Ouch, that almost hurt-- ‘cept I know you love me.”

“Not so much right now.”

“God, you’re such a sleepy little puppy,” Tony coos, even as his eyes start blinking slowly, to Steve’s relief. 

“Y’still haven’t told me your favorite song,” he says.

Tony bites his lip, and looks away. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

“You already have me.” The words are out before Steve can stop them, and when Tony’s face turns the prettiest shade of pink, Steve revels in the warmth of being _home_.


	111. The one where... Steve and Tony spend Christmas with the baby 'vengers!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #24: "How'd you get in here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

When Tony wakes up on Christmas morning, he barely manages to not fall off the bed at the sight of two bright green eyes settled on a tiny face inches from his own.

He doesn’t, however, hold back the curse he half mumbles into his pillow. “How’d you get in here?”

“JARBIS,” Natasha whispers, snuggling further into the bedcovers. Her hair is a riot of curls around her, a flash of vibrant red against the muted tones of his bedroom.

“Does Cap know you’re here?”

Soft giggles are her only response as she shakes her head, but JARVIS’ smooth voice breaks into the early morning quiet. “ _I’ve taking the liberty of letting Captain Rogers know of Miss Romanoff’s whereabouts, Sir._ ”

“Gonna give us both grey hairs if you keep sneaking around, y’know,” he warns her. Natasha shifts her gaze to the top of his head, and Tony rolls his eyes at the knowing look she sends him. “Fine– _more_ grey hair. But don’t go yapping about it, alright?”

“….It’s Chwistmas,” she grins.

“You came up here to tell me that?”

“ _Chwistmas._ ”

Tony sighs, and flips back the covers. “Everyone’s up already, aren’t they?”

Natasha nods.

“Alright, up and at ‘em. Come on,” he grunts as he picks her up, leading them out the room to the elevator down the hall. “How long’ve you been up, huh?”

Natasha shrugs, tucking her head under his chin, and her deep, steady breathing keeps him from asking any more questions. He pats her fleece clad back mindlessly, the low hum of the elevator surrounding them until it dings to signal their arrival.

He’s expecting to be met with loud, excited ruckus, but instead, he enters the living room to find the rest of his pint-sized teammates crowded into the biggest sofa, staring transfixed at the movie playing before them. Clint, perched on the back of the couch, sees them first.

“Tasha!” He gasps, making grabby hands at her. “ _Tashatashatashatasha!_ ”

Tony presses his lips to her temple. “Wanna go sit with the gang?”

Natasha shakes her head, and snuggles further into him. Clint gives her a brief pout, but turns back to the movie with a shrug.

“She’s stuck on you like glue.”

The fondness in Steve’s voice settles over Tony like a warm blanket, and when he turns, he’s helpless to return the blond’s happy smile.

“That’s ‘cause she’s a smart girl. She knows awesome when she sees it, doesn’t she?” he teases, jostling Natasha until she breathes out a chuckle into his neck.

“It’s, uh, pretty darn cute,” Steve looks down, shuffling on his feet as his ears go pink, and that’s when Tony notices he’s not the only one with his hands full.

“Sippy cups, Rogers?”

“You betcha. There’s no way I’m lettin’ this bunch drink without a lid– the recliner still stinks of grape soda,” Steve says, shuddering in disgust as he stealthily passes them out to their teammates.

“Ugh,” Natasha mumbles.

“Yeah, okay,” Tony sighs. “What’d you put in there, though? Milk?”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve. It’ll take us hours to put ‘em down.”

Steve just gives him an impish grin. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony rolls his eyes, but doesn’t even care that his voice sounds so pathetically happy. “Back atcha, big guy.”

“Steeb!” a voice calls from the lumpy mass on the couch, and then a tiny hand peeks out over the edge to hold up a snowman covered cup. “ _Steeeeeeeeb!_ ”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“More!”

Steve frowns adorably. “No, there’s no way you’re finished.”

“Uh huh!”

“What’d you do, bud, inhale it?”

“…Pwease?”

“Just one more,” Steve sighs, and goes back into the kitchen with an indulgent smile aimed their way.

Tony sinks into the love seat by the couch in silence, ignoring the movie in favor of watching his team. Natasha is a warm weight on his chest and lap, and in a moment of sheer, absolute happiness, he pulls her closer and closes his eyes to relish the feeling.

*-*-*-*-*-*

There’s a cool, whisper-soft touch on his cheek.

In the warmth around him it would almost feel jarring, but deep inside, he knows where he is and who he’s with, so he opens his eyes and meets tiny, curious ones for the second time.

“Wanna back up a bit so I can breathe?” he croaks.

“Steeb said we could op’n pwesents if we didn’ wake y’up,” Bucky says, eyes growing wide with glee. “Can we op’n pwesents now?”

“What time’s it?”

The pillow under his cheek moves, and _oh…_ Not a pillow at all. “Ten.”

Tony looks up until he meets Steve’s bright blue gaze, and starts to pull away. “Uh, sorry–”

“Don’t move,” the blond whispers. “It’s… It’s fine. Stay, please?”

Tony nods, and lets his body relax against the solid, steady presence of his Captain. “I’m surprised they managed to keep their grabby little paws to themselves. Alright,” he waves lazily in the direction of the tree. “Go nuts.”

“Pwesents!” Thor crows, climbing on the couch and jumping on the cushions, and even Bruce lets out a peal of laughter as they race over to the tree.

From her perch on Tony’s arms, Natasha whimpers in displeasure at being woken up, and Tony runs his fingers through her silky locks without hesitation. “Shouldn’t’ve been awake at the ass crack of dawn just to wake me up via heart attack,” he says, but it comes out more like a coo than anything else. “Don’t you want to open your presents now? You can sleep some more later, hmm?”

Natasha eyes him skeptically, green eyes soft and more than a little groggy from sleep. “Nap?”

“Yep. But I know someone’s got a couple of kick ass presents from good ol’ Saint Nick.”

“No Santa,” she shakes her head, arms still curled beside Tony’s heart.

“Fine, then,” he says. “They’re all from me–”

“And me,” Steve says.

“And Cap. And I’ve got more money than a billion Santas, so knock yourself out, sweetheart.“

Natasha’s lips quirk up in a shy smile, and she climbs off him to join the group by the tree. Tony hears Steve chuckle as the boys pass her gifts to her like an assembly line, and then the room breaks into a squealing, giggling chaos.

“I hope they remember this,” Steve says, turning in his seat to face Tony. “I hope they remember how special you made their holidays.”

In the soft, festive light from their Christmas tree, his eyes looks softer and brighter all at once, and Tony feels that familiar pang of fierce longing all over again. He looks down to hide his flushed cheeks, fiddling with a loose edge from the throw he just realizes he’s been covered with.

He doesn’t even have to wonder who the culprit is. “This isn’t how I saw us spending Christmas,” he admits.

“None of us did. But we’re doin’ alright,” Steve replies, bumping Tony’s shoulder with his own.

“Most of the time,” he says pointedly.

Steve rolls his eyes fondly. “I already said sorry for the soda–”

“Sorry doesn’t make up for the thirty-four hundred dollar recliner I’m gonna need replaced.”

“Oh pipe down, Tin Man– you could buy a million of ‘em.”

Tony scoffs, and bumps Steve back. “You are too fucking comfortable with my money, big guy.”

“Believe me,” the blond shakes his head. “I’m really not. I’m just– _Clint Francis Barton, you better not be aimin’ that arrow at Thor’s head!_ ”

Clint whips his head in their direction, smiling sweetly as he drops his new gift. “Dey’re foam!”

“Never mind that. And Bruce, don’t stack your books so high.”

“‘Kay.”

“ _Tonyyyyyyyy,_ ” Rhodey runs up and shoves his remote control car in Tony’s face. “Look!”

“Yeah I know, honey bear. It’s nice?” he asks, but Rhodey’s already back on the other side of the room, running the car up and down Barnes’ sides.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Tony breathes.

Steve’s face is soft and earnest, and the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen. “For everything,” he says, gesturing at their teammates as they play. “For being here, with them. With me.”

“You’re…” _My friend, my partner… everything._ “You’re welcome,” Tony finally says, and revels in the sounds of his family’s happiness for the rest of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE! :D Thank you so much for all your friendship and support! Hope you have an amazing day! <3<3<3


	112. The one where... it's Christmas morning!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #24: "Merry Christmas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Tony--”

“It’s still dark out! Jesus Christ,” Tony mutters, nuzzling into a warm, deliciously firm shoulder a second later, and can’t hold back a happy sigh when Steve’s arms pull him closer. “Lemme sleep, you ass.”

“But it’s Christmas!”

“You’re a dork.”

“Love you too.”

“No you don’t,” Tony grumbles. “You wouldn’t have woken me up at ass o’clock in the morning.”

“It’s almost six, sweetheart,” Steve laughs, and Tony feels him press a kiss to the top of his head. “Half the team’s probably up already.”

“Don’t care.”

“I bet the coffee’s ready too.”

“...I know what you’re doing.”

“Hmm?”

Tony nods. “Not gonna work, though. We’re staying here if I have to tie you to the bed-- and not in the fun way,” he adds, wrapping his arms and legs around as much of Steve as he can. 

“You’re always such a cuddle bear in the mornings,” Steve chuckles. “I love it.”

“Shut up and let me sleep,” Tony whines, even as his cheeks heat up from the fondness in Steve’s voice. Under the veritable mountain of blankets they’re lying under, it feels like they’re in their own little world, and Tony thinks he could definitely get used to it all.

“Tony?”

“What.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, baby,” he whispers back. “Let me sleep, and I’ll show you how much later, ‘kay?”

“‘m not tired.”

“ _God_ , okay,” Tony groans. pulling himself up until they’re face to face, sharing one of the many pillows scattered around the bed. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Nothin’,” Steve says, as soft as the gleam in his eyes, and with his hair ruffled and tousled from sleep, he looks younger than Tony’s ever seen. “Just wanted to spend time with ya.”

“Not gonna get to do that much today, huh?”

“I don’t mind. But you’re the only one I wanna start the day with.”

“Sap,” Tony whispers, and closes the space between them to press a quick kiss on Steve’s nose, laughing when the blond wrinkles it a second later. “Now entertain me, honey bunny.” 

“How?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Just keep me awake.”

“I can do that,” Steve says, and even though Tony sees it coming, the first press of Steve’s lips on his still sends a thrill down his spine. It’s slow and soft and wonderfully tender, the way Tony’s always wanted Christmas to feel, and he’s quick to lose himself to it.

“O-kay,” he gasps, when they finally pull away. “That... Yeah, I’m-- I’m up now. Jesus... Merry Christmas to me.”

“Shut up,” Steve chuckles, and Tony feels the vibrations of it spread through his chest and over the rest of his body. “You’re ridiculous and I love you.”

“Back atcha, stud muffin.”

“Speaking of muffins...”

“No,” Tony hisses, burrowing deeper into Steve’s warmth. “I swear to God, Rogers...”

“Kidding, sweetheart. We’re not goin’ anywhere.”

“Damn fucking right. Now get down here and kiss me again.”

“Yes, sir!” Steve laughs, and pulls Tony back in to press their smiling lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS! :D


	113. The one where... Tony's not jealous. Really, he isn't.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #25: "I'm not jealous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"I'm not jealous.”

“You sure about that?” Rhodey snickers, and the only reason Tony doesn’t smack him is because of the six foot two, two hundred plus pound ball of giggles a couple of feet away. “I think you’re turning a little green there.”

“Shut up,” he hisses, just as Steve lets out another laugh when the puppy in his lap gives his face an enthusiastic lick, and he’s pretty sure something on his face betrays the longing in his chest, because Rhodey mutters a low, breathy curse.

“You’re so screwed, Tones.”

Tony doesn’t even bother denying it, and barely has a chance to catch his breath before baby blue eyes finally meet his again.

“He’s gorgeous,” Steve says, his smile bright and happy and everything Tony always wants him to be. “Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas,” is all he can say back, lips quirking up into a helpless smile as Steve continues to be trampled by little pudgy paws.

“How come _I_ don’t get a dog, huh?” Clint asks him, sprawled out on his stomach across the floor and reaching over at Steve’s lap to pet their new addition. “Ooh, can we name it Lucky? C’mere, Lucky,” he coos, “c’mere, boy!”

The pug just quirks its tiny head, and then goes back to sniffing at Steve’s arms.

“ _Re-jected!_ ” Sam cackles from the couch, bumping the fist Barnes holds out to him.

“I was thinking... Rembrandt,” Steve says, lifting the dog up to bury his face in the soft fur, and Tony resolutely ignores the voice in his head telling him that Rhodey might be right.

“You _would_ pick a name like that,” he says, rolling his eyes at the shy, pleased smile Steve gives him.

“We can call him Remy.”

“Remy Rogers?” Bruce asks, and not even Steve holds back his laughter at that.

“Yeah, okay that’s it. No take backs,” Rhodeys says; Tony doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s grinning.

“Fine with me,” Steve looks down at the puppy. “Y’like it, boy? Y’like it, Remy?”

Remy gives one short, loud yip, and licks the tip of Steve’s noise, sending half the room into various states of groaning.

“So I obviously didn’t think this through,” Tony admits, even as his heart does a little lurch of want when Steve just peppers Remy’s head with gentle kisses.

“Y’think?” Clint mutters. He still hasn’t moved from the floor, though, so Tony ignores his grumbling. “This is nauseating.”

“Uncle Clint’s just jealous, huh?” he teases, only to catch the mischievous gleam that enters Barton’s eyes. 

“Does that make you the dad-- well, the other dad?”

Tony could kiss himself for keeping the blush off his cheeks, and just rolls his eyes again.

“Which is it, then? You ‘Daddy’, or ‘Papa’? Hey, Remy! C’mere, boy! Love _meeeee_!” he whines, when Steve lets the pug down so he scamper around his new home. Clint wastes no time in scooping him up, laughing as Remy walks up and down his chest.

“I always wanted a dog.”

Tony turns at the sound of Steve’s voice, and feels his breath hitch when he finds the blond suddenly sitting right there next to him. “Should’ve bought you a bell, you menace,” he says.

Steve bumps his shoulder against Tony’s. “You’re hilarious.”

“Sure am, Spangles.”

“...Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” Steve whispers, leaning to press a whisper-soft kiss to Tony’s cheek. Tony almost closes his eyes against the warmth that spreads through his body, and hopes that the rest of the team is still distracted by Remy and Clint’s antics.

“You like him?” he asks breathlessly.

“Almost as much as I like you, Shellhead.”

"Sweet-talker.”

“ _Hey, lovebirds!_ ”

“What?” Steve asks, and Tony has to tell himself that’s not disappointment he hears in his voice.

“Time to take your kid back,” Clint tells them, holding a wriggling Remy with his outstretched hand. 

Steve takes him back with a grin, then holds him out to Tony. “Wanna hold him?” he asks.

“Later,” Tony promises. “Should probably let him get used to you first.”

“Alright, you heard your dad, buddy: go nuts,” Steve coos down at Remy, and Tony almost chokes on air. The puppy wastes no time in scampering throughout the room when Steve lets him go, and Tony takes a deep breath before meeting baby blue eyes once more. 

“Merry Christmas,” is all he says.

“Back atcha, Shellhead.”


	114. The one where... Steve gets Tony a little something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #26: "I don’t know, it just reminded me of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I don’t know, it just reminded me of you.”

“Steve... it’s a _teddy bear._ ”

“You don’t-- you don’t like it?” Steve asks, voice growing soft as his face starts to fall, and _oh shit_ , Tony’s mind screams.

“No, I-- hey, I do, yeah, sure. It’s-- it’s... cute,” he stammers, pressing his fluffy gift to his chest, and breathes in relief when Steve’s eyes suddenly brighten in happiness.

“Yeah?”

“Sure, big guy,” Tony says, and finds that he means it.

“I, uh, found it in a little shop during the mission, and the eyes...”

“What about ‘em?” Tony asks, glancing down to look at them just as Steve replies.

“They’re the same shade of blue as your reactor.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat against his chest, and breathes through the flush that blooms on his cheeks. All he can offer is a soft ‘ _thanks_ ’, but he looks back up just in time to catch the happy curve of Steve’s lips.

“You’re welcome. I know it’s... it’s probably not much, but--”

“Nope, shut up,” Tony stops him. “It’s great, I love it. But honestly?” he takes advantage of the face that they’re finally alone to take a step forward, into Steve’s space until they’re inches apart. “You make an even better present.”

“Back atcha, Shellhead,” Steve says, even as his own cheeks turn the softest shade of pink, and Tony smothers the urge to press his lips to the warm skin. “It’s good to be home.”

“And just in time for Christmas.”

“Wasn’t gonna miss that for anythin’.”

“Good,” Tony nods, more than a little breathless at those blue eyes looking down at him. 

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed ya,” Steve says, all smiles and dimpled cheeks, and Tony’s thinks he could cry from how much he loves this man. It washes over him, slow and warm, until every inch of his body feels like sunlight.

“I missed you too,” he can’t help admitting.

“Really?”

“Yep. Dummy’s been unbearable since you left-- to be fair, he’s unbearable _all the time_ \--”

“Don’t be mean!” Steve’s laughter fills the room easily and god, Tony’s missed the sound; his heart feels fuller just hearing it.

“All that whining and moping and pathetic beeping... it’s nightmare, Cap.”

“Guess I’ll have to spend some more time down there, huh? Gotta make it up to him.”

“It’s the least you can do,” Tony teases, even as a thrill runs down his spine at the thought of having Steve down in the workshop again. “Even Butterfingers is annoyed.”

“I better get on that, then,” Steve grins. “Can I, uh...” he jerks his head in the direction of the elevators, and Tony’s heart gives a happy little lurch when he realize what Steve’s asking.

“You don’t have to... not right now,” he sighs. “You just got back; you can barely stay on your feet. When’s the last time you slept?”

“I’m fine.”

“I know you’re fine, Cap.”

“I just... _I missed you_ ,” Steve repeats, voice low and soft once more, and Tony’s nodding before he knows it.

“Come on, then,” he reaches for Steve’s wrist-- it’s as warm as he remembers-- and pulls him to the elevators. His other hand still holds the teddy bear to his chest, and he brings it up to his face, smiling into the soft fur. “Hey Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve replies, and when he shifts Tony’s grip until their fingers intertwine, Tony finally feels at home too.


	115. The one where... there are some early morning family moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #27: "So... can we go eat now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“So… can we go eat now?”

“God, honey, is food all you think about?”

“No,” Steve smirks, even as his stomach gives another loud rumble. His eyes are still soft and hazy from sleep, and Tony relishes the warmth he feels as they meet his own. “I think about you too. Sometimes.”

“Ouch. That almost hurt,” he chuckles, and then turns to press his lips to the golden curls nestled under his chin. “That wasn’t very nice of Papa, huh, _bella_?”

“Mean Papa,” their daughter tuts, cheek pressed comfortably into Tony’s chest. “‘pol’gize, Papa!” she reaches out to poke Steve’s chest. 

“I’m sorry, sweethearts,” Steve says. “Papa was kidding-- he thinks about you two _all the time_.”

“That’s better,” Tony nods haughtily.

“Uh huh! Better, Papa.”

“...My stomach’s got a mind of it’s own, though.”

“Tough luck, baby cakes,” Tony tells him. “We’re staying in bed for at least another hour.”

“Ten hours!” Their daughter squeals, lifting her head up to face Tony with large, familiarly blue eyes, and Tony’s heart gives a happy lurch when Steve leans over to kiss her cheek with a laugh. 

“Don’t think I’ll make it that long, baby,” he says, and pulls back the bedcovers a second later, rising from the bed with a grace that sends shivers of appreciation down Tony’s spine.

“Hey, hey, where do you think you’re going, gorgeous?”

“Babe, I’m dyin’ here. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” Steve promises. “I’m just running down for a snack.”

“ _Papaaaaa!_ ” Bella whines, making grabby hands at her father.

“Pinkie promise, sweetie. I’ll even bring you back a cookie.”

“...Santa cookie!”

“Magic word, pumpkin,” Tony jostles her.

“P’ease?”

“Anything for you, princess,” Steve grins, and then, with a kiss blowed their way, he’s out the door.

“Guess I’m chopped liver, huh?” Tony mutters down at their daughter, smiling as the sound of bright, happy giggles fills the room.

“Liver’s yuck!”

“That’s right, bunny. Yucky liver.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, _tesoro_?”

Bella rolls over onto the now empty space beside him, bright blond curls gleaming in the morning light, and grins up at him. “Thank you f’my pwesents.”

“You liked ‘em?”

His daughter nods, huddling into his side with ease as her tiny hands fiddle with his pajama shirt. “Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“When’s it Chwis’mas again?”

“Moving a little quick there, aren’t you, sunshine?” Tony chuckles. “That’s still a long ways away.”

“Lotsa days?”

“Yep.”

“How many?”

“More than three hundred,” he says, and watches those baby blues widen in horror.

“ _Nooooo!_ ” she cries out, scrambling back on top of him with a pout.

“Hey, none of that, _mia principessa_ ,” he coos, bopping her nose until she’s a bundle of giggles once more. “We still have New Years!”

“With gwapes?”

“All the grapes you want.”

“I wike gwapes.”

“I know you do.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, tater tot?

“Wuv you.”

“I love you too, _bella_ ,” Tony responds immediately, and means it more than he’s ever meant anything in his life. His daughter reaches over to smack a kiss to his cheek, and wriggles into her original perch atop his chest, breathing low and soft against Tony’s jaw.

“How ‘bout me?” Steve’s voice echoes around the room, and a second later, the man himself stands beside the bed again, a satisfied grin on his face as he hugs a plate to his chest.

“Depends on whether you share whatever you’ve got there,” Tony tells him, even as pulls back the covers in invitation. “Pass it over, big guy.”

“I thought you weren’t hungry.”

“Shut it. Just sit here and look pretty while we enjoy these babies-- here ya go, little miss,” he gives her the Santa hat cookie. “Feed, my child.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he settles into the pillows against the headboard. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you too, snookums.”

“Wuv you too, Papa,” their daughter echoes around a mouthful of her sugar cookie, and Steve’s smile-- all dimpled cheeks and clear, azure eyes-- sends Tony’s heart fluttering like the very first time.

“ _Now_ we can stay in bed all day.”


	116. The one where... there's some post-Christmas relaxation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #28: "Just once."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Just once.”

“Once?”

“Yep.”

“Promise?”

“Scout’s honor,” Steve says, grinning when Tony lets out a sigh.

“Fine. But I swear to God, Rogers, if I die--”

“You won’t.”

Tony looks up at him through his lashes. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this.”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, y’know. I just... I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“What, enjoy freezing my ass off on the roof of my cabin?”

“Freezing your ass off on the roof of your cabin _with me_ ,” Steve winks, and pulls Tony close before he can stop him. “C’mon, Tony-- I’ll keep ya warm, I promise.”

“You better,” Tony grumbles, but by the time Steve’s dragged him out the door and into the dark, winter night, he can feel the smile settling easily on his face.

\- - - - -

“The stars sure look a whole lot nicer up here.”

Steve’s voice sounds oddly distant, even as his chest presses against Tony’s back, arms wrapped comfortably around his waist, and Tony turns his head away from the stars above them to look at him over his shoulder. “I guess it’s not so bad,” he says, and feels a thrill of satisfaction when Steve grins in response.

“Worth the cold?”

“Don’t know. My ass went numb a while back, and my toes are just abou-- no, wait, there they go. Scout’s honor, my ass...”

“Oh pipe down,” Steve chuckles, pulling him closer into the warmth of his chest as he rests his head on Tony’s shoulder. “We’ll go back in a bit. I’ll even make some more hot chocolate to make it up to ya.”

“It’s the least you can do,” Tony says, heart skipping a beat as Steve’s breath brushes his cheek like a kiss.

“Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For this,” Steve says. “For... everything. I had a wonderful Christmas.”

Tony swallows the lump in his throat, and nods. “Good.”

“Y’know... when I woke up, I... I didn’t think I’d ever have this again.”

“Have what?”

“A home. A family. Somethin’ worth fighting for-- worth _living_ for.”

“You deserve all of it,” Tony whispers, blinking away the telltale sting at the back of his eyes. “And more.”

“Thank you,” Steve says again. “But I’m perfectly happy with what I’ve got right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure as shootin’, mister.”

“...then you might want to get me down from here,” Tony tells him. “‘Cause I can’t feel shit.”

This time, Steve’s laughter rings out loud and clear. “Come on, then, Shellhead. Let’s go get that chocolate.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Tony groans. “Honestly, Cap, you’re _bonkers_.” 

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“It’ll be better once you get on that chocolate, Rogers.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve gives him a lazy salute, smile brighter than any star. “Right away, sir.”

“Ass.”

“Love you too, Shellhead.”


	117. The one where... Steve's looking forward to the New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #29: "I saw it first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"I saw it first."

"Be a doll and share, then."

"...but I'm hungry," Steve whines.

"God, you're can be such a fucking child sometimes."

"Fine, I'll share--for a price."

Tony leans forward on the counter. "Name it," he says, and breathes through the hitch in his heartbeat when Steve's lips quirk up into a tender smile, as soft as the morning beyond the glass walls of the Tower.

"A kiss."

"I can do that," he nods, moving around the kitchen island and into Steve's welcoming arms. "What'll this get me?" He reaches up on his tiptoes to peck Steve's jaw.

Baby blue eyes narrow thoughtfully. "One bite of cake."

"Just one?"

"I'm willing to negotiate."

Tony grins. The soft hair at Steve's nape feels delightful. "How 'bout this?" He kisses Steve's nose, grinning when Steve wrinkles it a second later.

" _Mmm_... Better. That's a whole quarter."

"Of the icing part?"

"Keep goin' and I'll let you know," Steve pulls him in a little more, and this close, Tony can see every sinfully long lash fanned out against the cheek he then presses the next kiss to.

"How's that?"

"Yeah, you can have all the icing for that."

"Okay, but... What's it gonna take to have a whole damn slice?" Tony drawls.

"Kiss me."

"Yes, sir," he says, and leans the rest of the way to take Steve's lips with his own, slow and whisper-soft. Steve's arms feel like warm sunlight around his waist, and not for the first time, Tony thinks he could stay there forever, with his bare feet on the cold wooden floor and the smell of coffee and Steve and home in his lungs. 

Even after the kiss ends, Tony can still taste the sweet curve of Steve's lips. "Now..." he says, more than a little breathlessly, "slide that cake over, would ya?"

"Save me a piece and I'll heat up some leftovers," Steve counters, already pulling away to walk towards the fridge, and as Tony makes himself busy setting the table, he sighs the sigh of the resigned.

\- - - - -

"This is the fucking worst," Tony groans some time later, picking at a sad remnant of turkey still sitting on his plate. 

Steve, chest pressed up against Tony's back, just tucks his chin on the juncture of Tony's neck and shoulder. "Hey, it wasn't that bad, was if?"

"Not the food, hon. This.." Tony waves his hand generally. "Whatever the fuck you call the day after Christmas--"

"The twenty sixth?"

"You're not funny."

"I know what you mean, sweetheart," Steve says.

"What the hell do we do? I miss it already," he says softly, turning to nuzzle as much of his face as he can into Steve's neck, food-- and cake-- forgotten for the moment.

"We've got New Years comin'."

"Big deal. Another year, woo-hoo..."

"Well, I dunno about you, but I'm looking forward to a lot of things."

"Like?"

Steve's fingers tuck Tony's chin up until their eyes meet again. "Another year of bein' with you, for one," he says, a bright, happy smile on his face. "If it's anything like this year's been, I can't wait to start it."

Tony's heart feels close to bursting against his ribs. "Steve..."

"Another year of bein' an Avenger, and going out there with my family to fight the bad guys. Another year of movie nights and birthdays and holidays."

"Might be some bad times in there too," Tony says, eyes falling to the hollow of Steve's throat, and just manages to catch his nod.

"We can take it. We already do, don't we? It’s why we have each other."

“...I could probably do with a little less sap.”

“I thought you liked my sap,” Steve murmurs into Tony’s jaw. 

“Sometimes.”

“Maybe I should stop, then?”

“Don’t think you can, babe,” Tony smirks. “But I love you anyway.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” Steve says, and presses his lips to Tony’s once more.


	118. The one where... Steve and Tony go on a nice winter stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #30: "You're beautiful like this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You’re beautiful like this.”

“Stop.”

“I mean it.”

“ _Honey._ ”

“The snow makes your eyes so bright,” Steve whispers, and the awe in his voice is enough to send a flood of warmth up Tony’s cheeks. 

“I will turn around and walk back home, Rogers.”

Steve’s fingers tighten against his own. “Like I’d ever let you go.”

“Steve. _Babe_. Don’t tell me you’re not freezing your ass of right now.”

“I can handle a little cold.”

“You’re ridiculous and I don’t know why I let you talk me into this, Jesus Christ...” Tony mutters, even as he doesn’t pull away when Steve tugs him to his side and leads him down the quiet, snowy trail. “You know we can see this from our room, right? We can see the whole fucking park, Steve.”

“It’s just as nice to take a morning off and actually come down here.”

“If you say so.”

“Y’sure can’t beat the view from here,” Steve says, and Tony’s heart gives a happy lurch when he looks up and realizes Steve’s looking at him.

“It’s just snow,” he says, and if it comes out a little breathlessly, it’s just because of the cold.

Really.

“It suits you. Makes me wanna draw you just like this.”

“How?” Tony dares to ask, and watches Steve’s eyes grow even softer than before.

“With snowflakes in your hair.”

“Steve...”

“Your lips all chapped--”

“Ugh, you ass!” Tony growls, swatting at Steve’s shoulder as the blond laughs. There’s no one around as far as either of them can see-- just trees and snow and the vast, grey sky above them-- and for one blissful second, it feels like they’re the only two people in the world.

“Tony--”

“It’s your fucking fault--”

“Sweetheart--”

“--they’re like this!”

“How ‘bout I kiss ‘em and make ‘em better?” Steve asks him, and in lieu of nodding, Tony reaches up and does it for him-- it’s slow and deep and everything this moment feels like-- and feels a thrill of happiness when Steve reciprocates almost immediately, those thick, familiar arms wrapped snugly around his waist.

He has no idea how long they stay that way, chest to chest, but eventually they pull away for air with one last, quick peck, and when he rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, he can feel it heaving beneath him. “God... It’s so goddamn unfair,” he gasps, “that your lips are always so fucking _perfect._ ”

“If it’s any consolation,” Steve grins, “they’re all yours, baby.”

“They better be,” Tony scoffs. “I don’t come out trudging through Central Park for just anyone.”

“And believe me, I will make it worth your while when we get home.”

“Ooh, that’s more like it, baby doll!”

“Think you can handle bein’ out here a little longer?”

“For you?” Tony narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “You betcha.”

“God, I love you,” Steve breathes, and as they push further into the trees, Tony lets the words wash over him like the warmest blanket.

“Love you too, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEARS, EVERYONE! :D Thank you for making this year so wonderful for me! <3<3<3


	119. The one where... Steve and Tony spend New Year's Eve with their family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stony Christmas prompt #31: "Why is all my furniture on the roof?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

"Why is all my furniture on the roof?”

“It’s your patio stuff, Stark. It’s already up here. Chill, ‘kay?” Clint rolls his eyes, leaning further back until he’s balanced only on the hind legs of his chair, and Tony leans into Steve’s side to keep from giving into the urge to go over there and push him off. The rest of their team is scattered beneath a large canopy Tony’s never seen before, but he finds them all smiling and at ease as they meet his eyes.

“Nice of you two to join us,” Rhodey calls out, and sitting beside him, Pepper grins into the mug in her hands.

“Would’ve been here sooner,” Tony smirks, “but we got a little sidetracked--”

“Ah! Stop right there!” Sam yells. “Don’t wanna know...”

“Really? ‘Cause Steve knows how to do some some ridiculously filthy things with his tongue--”

“ _Tony!_ ” Steve gasps, slapping a hand his reddened face.

“ _God_ , it’s New Year’s Eve! Can’t you two keep it in your pants for more than an hour?” Clint groans. “I can’t even enjoy my eggnog anymore...”

“Give it here, then, I’ll do it for you,” Barnes holds out a hand expectantly, and Clint hands over his mug with a glare at Tony.

“I hate you.”

“It’s so nice to have the family together,” Natasha murmurs. She’s leaning against Bruce’s shoulder as the two share a bright blue Snuggie, and Tony’s chest warms with fond affection for the two of them.

“Y’want eggnog?” Steve whispers into his ear as they settle into the last of the empty seats.

“Maybe later,” Tony replies, wasting no time in arranging his body against Steve’s. “I’m still plenty warm...” he purrs, grinning into Steve’s neck as the blond’s shoulders start shaking.

“Behave, Shellhead. Just sit tight and enjoy the view,” Steve laughs, and with his family settled around him, Tony finds it easy to do so, closing his eyes against the surprisingly gentle winter breeze.

“Steve?”

“Hmmm?”

Tony breathes in the familiar, comforting scent of Steve’s skin and clothes, and curls his pinky finger around Steve’s. “Think we’ll be here next year?”

“I hope so. I sure as hell ain’t planning on goin’ anywhere.”

“Good,” is all Tony can say, breathless from relief as much as he is from the cold.

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Tony lifts his head from Steve’s shoulder to meet his eyes. “Love you too, baby,” he says, and leans up to taste Steve’s grin with his own smiling lips.


	120. The one where... Tony's too tired for this, and Steve's okay with it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING, Y'ALL! :D
> 
> Summer of Stony prompt #14: “Remind me why I’m doing this, again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Remind me why I’m doing this, again?”

Steve is jerked from the book he’s reading as the sound of his boyfriend’s voice, and doesn’t even have time to say a word before Tony plops himself onto his lap. Steve’s arms move on reflex to wrap themselves around his waist, book forgotten on the table next to them, and he brings him close until their chests touch. “Doin’ what?”

Tony’s reaches behind him, and then comes back clutching a bright, colorful _Vote Tony Stark for Prom King!_ poster “This.”

“I thought you wanted to run.”

“I do,” Tony nods, but…

“Hey,” Steve cups Tony’s cheek until their eyes meet. With his boyfriend on his lap, Steve has to look up, and as strange as that is, he suddenly thinks it might be a good thing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Tony says quickly. His shoulders tense almost imperceptibly, and oh, he’s not even looking at Steve anymore.

“Baby–”

Tony smiles, an empty curve of his lips that has Steve tightening his hold for one cold, panicked moment. “I’m fine, I’m good.”

“Tony.”

“Just… kiss me?”

Steve does.

They’re in the middle of the library, and there’s a handful of people within sight, but Steve still kisses Tony like it’s the very first time. He pours every bit of emotion and enthusiasm and love into it, and feels relief rush through him when Tony returns the kiss without hesitation.

He has no idea how long it lasts, but they both pull away with gasps that echo around them. “You know I love you, right?”

Tony nods, eyes softening as he bites his reddened lip.

“And you know you can tell me anything?” Steve continues. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Only if you want to, though. It’s okay if you don’t–”

“I just… I don’t know why I’m doing this anymore.” Tony says softly, tucking his head under Steve’s chin. “I know we talked about winning and, y’know, being up there together, and… You’re a shoo in, babe, that’s a given. You don’t even have to do any of this shit, but…”

Steve holds his breath.

“I feel like– like I have to… prove something. Like I have to tell people I’m good enough to win and be up there with you, and I just don’t care. I’ve been putting up papers all over campus, and… God, I don’t know why I let Jan waste her time making ‘em. I’m so fucking tired.”

“God, Tony,” Steve whispers, holding the brunet tighter as he presses a kiss on every inch of skin he can reach. “I’m sorry–”

“No, stop,” Tony shakes his head. “I didn’t– hey,” he pulls away to look at Steve again. “I didn’t say it to make you feel bad, Jesus. Don’t apologize–”

“But–”

“Nope, shut up. I just– I’m happy just… being with you,” Tony says shyly, cheeks a rare, pretty shade of pink. “Don’t get me wrong– you and me? We’d make kickass prom kings. But I also don’t… I don’t give a fuck anymore, babe.”

Steve cups his face, and kisses him again. “I love you so much. So damn much.”

“Even without a crown?”

“You betcha,” he says, and watches Tony’s lips quirk up into Steve’s favorite smile.

“Charmer.”

“Only for you, Shellhead.”

Tony pecks his cheek. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then come on, Cap,” Tony jumps up and tugs on Steve’s hand.

“Tony–”

“Chop, chop. Gotta help me undo all my hard work. Jan’s gonna be so pissed.”

“We’ll live.”

Tony shrugs. “Barely,” he replies. “You coming?”

Steve tosses his backpack over his shoulder, and follows Tony. “Shawarma for lunch after?”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Tony replies. His hand is warm and firm in Steve’s. “I love you too, y’know.”

“Yeah,” Steve’s grin comes easier than breathing. “I know.”


	121. The one where... Tony has plans, and so does Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #15: “So, I found this waterfall...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“So, I found this waterfall…”

“ _Hmm…_ ”

“Steve.”

“ _…wh…_ ”

“Steeeeeeeve,” Tony whines, poking at the lump lying next to him. “Steve–”

“‘m tryin’ t’sleep, Tony,” Steve groans, arching away from him.

“Morning person, my ass. Come on, Rogers, c’mon, c’mon–”

There’s a loud, resigned sigh from inside Steve’s sleeping bag, and a second later, a blond, messy head peeks out to face him. “ _What._ ”

“I found a waterfall.”

“Good f’r you.”

Tony blinks. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Don’t you wanna go see it?”

Steve stares at him, eyes bleary with sleep but still a breathtaking shade of blue. “Tony.”

“Don’t wear out my name, big guy.”

“Are you serious? _Now_?”

“Isn’t this, y’know, your thing?” Tony waves his hand in the direction of the tent entrance. “Nature, morning, all that shit?”

“Not today, I’m not,” Steve says, and Tony only has time to recognize the mischievous quirk of his lips before warm, muscular arms pull him down into Steve’s chest. “Hey!”

“I’m tired–”

“Steve–”

“– because someone made me carry everything yesterday–”

“I carried _some_ things–”

“– and then left me to set up the tent by myself–”

“I was reading the instructions–”

“– even though he’s the smartest fella I know–”

“Aww, thanks, sunshine–”

“– and he probably could’ve done it in his sleep–”

“– but you looked so hot doing it,” Tony purrs.

“So now,” Steve continues, cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink Tony’s ever seen, “I’m going to sleep in. And you,” he tightens his hold, “are going to do the same.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Tony sighs, even as he snuggles into that massive chest.

“I promise we’ll go later,” Steve whispers into his hair. “Wanna take the gang with us?”

“Do you?”

“Hey, it’s _your_ waterfall.”

“I like the sound of that,” Tony rests his chin on Steve’s pec, and grins. “How much’d you think it cost to buy it?”

“You can’t buy a waterfall, Tony.”

“Uh huh, sure you can’t,” he replies, and to his surprise, feels his eyes already growing heavy. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Being all… warm’n shit.”

“‘m sorry,” Steve says softly. He sounds anything but.

“I guess I can forgive you,” Tony whispers.

“Thanks, Shellhead. So… what’s this waterfall like, huh?”

“Don’t you wanna wait till you can see it?”

“I dunno, it must be pretty neat, if it managed to impress _you_.”

Tony smiles into Steve’s sleeping bag. “It’s fucking awesome.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Tell me about it, then.”

Tony does, and falls asleep to the deep, comforting sound of Steve’s breathing beneath his cheek.


	122. The one where... Steve and Tony enjoy a special moment on their first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #16: “Looks like we’ll be trapped here for a while…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped here for a while…”

“You didn’t plan this, did you?”

“Steven, you wound me,” Tony gasps, grinning when the blond next to him rolls his eyes. 

“That didn’t answer my question, y’know.”

“No, I didn’t plan this. Would’ve been a good idea, though, right? I’m not above doing something like that to keep you with me.”

“You don’t have to,” Steve replies. “There’s... well, I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” In the warm glow of the sunset in the distance, his blue eyes are softer and brighter than ever, and Tony feels his heart skip a beat.

“I hope not,” he says. “Otherwise, this dating thing’s off to a bad start.”

Steve bites the corner of his lip, and looks down at the plush puppy in his hands. “It’s been perfect. I’m havin’ a great time.”

Tony tries to tamper the giddiness bubbling up in his chest. “Good to know Coney Island does it for ya.”

“It’s not so much Coney Island as it is the fact that I’m here with you.”

Tony looks over the edge of the tiny car they’re sitting in-- down to the bottom of the ferris wheel and then to the bustle surrounding it-- to hide the flush that rises to his cheeks. “You’re killing me, Rogers.”

“I wouldn’t want that. It’d kinda put a damper on our first date, don’tcha think?”

 _First date._ The sound of it still makes Tony dizzy with disbelief, so he ends up just fiddling with his hands. For all that today’s been one of the best he’s ever had-- it’s certainly not his first time at Coney, but somehow, all the games and the food and the sheer atmosphere of the place have felt indescribably different-- he’s suddenly more nervous than he can ever remember being.

Fucking ferris wheel. Fucking glitch...

“Tony?”

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head to clear his thoughts before he turns back to Steve with a smile.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Only a penny, Rogers?” he asks, and their car swings with as Steve throws his head back and laughs.

“You’re right. They’re definitely worth more than that.”

“Well, they’re about you, so yeah,” Tony dares to say.

Steve’s smile is as bright and as beautiful as it’s been all day. “Hey, Shellhead?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Tony’s breath catches. “Now?”

“I was gonna wait till we got home, but... well, I’ve been dyin’ to all day.”

vAll Tony can do is nod, and then Steve’s lips are on his and--

_oh._

It’s slow and whisper-soft, and so tender, Tony feels chills running down his arms. He feels Steve’s hand cup his cheek, closes his eyes against the lurch his heart gives, and knows he’s never been happier than he is at this moment.

vIt feels like ages before Steve pulls away, as slowly as he’d kissed him, and leans their foreheads against each other.

“You sure _you_ didn’t plan this?” Tony asks breathlessly, feeling Steve’s laughter brush his cheek.

“I think we’re just lucky.”

“You _would_ think so.”

“Don’t you?” 

When Tony finally opens his eyes again, Steve is all he can see. “I don’t know... you might have to convince me.”

Steve just grins, and leans back in to taste Tony’s own smile.


	123. The one where... Tony's night ends so much better than it started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #17: “I’m sorry I punched you in the face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100K WORDS!!! KASJDHFKSDHGKSJDHGKAHDAGKJK I can't believe I've reached this point. I wanna thank you guys so much for all the support. Y'all ROCK! <3<3
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“I’m sorry I punched you in the face.”

“Ditto. About kicking you. In the balls,” Tony replies, careful to keep the ice pack over his bruised eye. “How’s your arm?”

The shaggy haired brunet sitting in the chair next to him shrugs his shoulders, and then winces when he ends up jostling said arm. “It’s better. Still hurts like a motherfucker, though.”

“At least we’re better off than the other guy,” Tony says, grinning when the other man laughs and nods.

“Never stood a ch--”

“ _James Buchanan Barnes, I cannot believe you!_ ”

“Aw shit,” Barnes sighs, as the sound of footsteps grows louder and closer from down the hall.

“ _You promised you wouldn’t pull shit like this again, and I don’t know why you didn’t call Peggy first but she’s gonna kick your ass, and you know how Ma gets worried, I practically had to chain her to the sofa to keep her from comin’ down here--”_

“Stop shoutin’, Steve, I’m okay!” Barnes calls out, and Tony looks up just as the most beautiful man he’s ever seen walks into the waiting room, gorgeous arms crossing over a massive chest as turns a glare at him.

“-- And no one here’d tell me what was goin’ on, I was half outta my mind the whole ride over, y’know, and-- _oh_ ,” Big, Blond and Beautiful stops short, cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink as he seems to realize his friend’s not alone in the room. “Um, sorry. Hi.”

“Hiya back, gorgeous,” Tony drawls, lips quirking up into his most charming smile, and Blondie’s eyes-- big and blue and utterly perfect, holy shit-- widen as his blush grows warmer.

“Seriously?” Barnes groans, making the blond-- Steve, was it?-- turn his attention back to him. “Well, he _does_ seem your type--”

“ _Bucky!_ ”

“Sorry.”

“How are you?” Steve crouches down, and pats his friend’s knee. “How long’ve you been waiting? Why isn’t anyone treatin’ ya? What happened?”

“Breathe, Stevie,” Barnes says. “I’m okay--”

“No you’re not, Buck,” Steve shakes his head. Tony sees his eyes run over the brunet’s arm. “Is it dislocated? They need to set that right in, you know what Ma says--”

“It’s not,” Tony blurts, breath catching in his throat when the blond looks over at him again. He’s so gorgeous, it almost hurts. “Dislocated, I mean. It was, but not-- not anymore. I, uh, set it back in place.”

“Oh. Um, thank you?”

“No worries,” he waves his hand around casually. “Least I could do.”

“Are _you_ okay?” Steve then asks. “You’re lookin’ awfully banged up too,” he reaches out a hand, like he wants to touch Tony’s face, but then catches himself with another blush and pulls it back. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s--” Tony licks his lips. “It’s, y’know, fine. Makes me look roguish, actually,” he waggles his eyebrows, and feels a thrill of victorious pleasure when the blond honest to God _giggles_ , all dimpled cheeks and crinkled baby blues.

It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“It sure makes you look somethin’, Mister...”

“Stark,” Tony shakes his head, “but that name’s reserved for the old man. You can call me Tony.”

“Steve Rogers, at your service,” the blond holds out his hand.

“I sure hope so, handsome,” Tony replies, and revels in the warm of Steve’s skin as it touches his. 

“That was pitiful.”

“Shut it, Buck,” Steve glares at him. “Now, are either of ya going to tell me what happened?”

“Your new boyfriend kicked me in the balls,” Barnes grumbles.

“Only because you hit me first.”

“You got in the way!”

“The bastards were pushing me!”

Steve sighs, and runs a hand down his face. “Do I wanna know?”

“Long story short,” Tony replies, “racists fuckers thought it’d be a good idea to mess with my friend.”

“You should see ‘em now,” Barnes grins proudly.

“And where’s your friend?” Steve asks Tony.

“Rhodey? Out looking for parking. I think.”

“Aren’t you proud of us, Stevie?”

Steve nods, even though the glimmer of concern has yet to leave his eyes. “Sure I am. But let me go find someone to help you out, alright? Seein’ the two of you’s killin’ me.”

“No!” Barnes almost yells, and stands up with an impish gleam in his dark eyes. “No, I’ll do it, you just-- you stay here.”

“Wh-- it’s okay, Buck, I’ve got it.”

“Nah, I’ll be back. Besides, I can tell Stark’s itchin’ to get to know you better.”

“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, even as he sends Tony a hopeful little look that almost takes his breath away.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Barnes gives them a lazy salute as he limps out of the room.

“Buck--”

“ _Don’t you dare come after me!_ ”

“I think he’s serious,” Tony says, more than a little eager to have those eyes on him again.

“Oh, I know,” Steve replies, sitting down beside Tony with a shy smile. “Still, I’m sorry about him. He’s an ass half the time.”

“I’m an ass all the time. I get it,” Tony says, and then lets out a hiss when the ice pack digs into the bruised skin around his eye. 

“Should I, um, go get someone for you?”

Tony shakes his head. “I’m good, peaches,” he smirks. “I’ll have a nasty bruise for a couple of days, but I got off good compared to your buddy. I was just... just keeping him company.”

“Oh, that’s... thank you,” Steve breathes, and he’s suddenly looking at Tony like he hung the moon and stars up for him.

It’s almost disconcerting.

Almost.

“No, stop. Like I said-- least I could do,” Tony nods. “And now that you’re here, I’m a lot happier I stayed.”

Steve bites his lip around a smile. “You always this bold, Tony Stark?”

“Only when I see something I want.”

“And what’d that be?”

“A date,” Tony finally dares to say. “Unless you’re, y’know, with someone--”

“I’m not,” Steve says loudly, and then looks surprised at his eagerness. “Shit, sorry. That... gosh, that was loud, wasn’t it? Sorry--”

“Don’t be,” Tony says, barely holding on to the giddy laughter threatening to come forth. “It’s cute. _You’re_ cute.”

Steve bows his head, and then looks up at Tony from beneath long, gorgeous lashes. “You don't even know me.”

“That’s the whole point of a date, handsome. Think you'd be up for it?" Tony asks, and tries to ignore the little part of his head screaming that it sounds an awful lot like he's begging. 

Tony stark doesn't beg.

But those eyes...

"I'd like that," Steve finally says, smiling like he thinks it's the best idea ever, and even with a black eye and a bruised shoulder, even sitting in a hospital waiting room at two in the morning, Tony thinks that's exactly what it might be.


	124. The one where... Tony comes home to a nice little surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #18: “You did all of this for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You did all of this for me?”

Steve nods. “I know you’ve had a long day at work, so...”

Tony moves past the table, laden with plates of steaming food and ice cold beer bottles, and steps close into Steve’s space. “Well, ain’t you a sweetheart,” he purrs, wrapping his arms around the blond’s neck to press their bodies together.

“Only for you.”

“Well, I should fucking hope so,” Tony laughs. “Because if you’re doing this for anyone else--”

“You know I wouldn’t,” Steve cuts him off, voice as soft as the arms he winds around Tony’s waist are firm.

“I know, baby.”

“You hungry?”

“Starving. But first...” Tony leans in and captures Steve’s lips in a kiss-- slow and deep like he’s been aching to ever since he left for SI in the morning-- sighing happily as Steve returns it with soft, tender swipes of his own. “I love you,” he whispers, after they both pull away for air.

Steve’s smile is all he can see. “I love you too.”

Tony leans in for a final peck before stepping back. “Now, what’ve you got for me here, huh?”

“Pretty much the only things I know how to make,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “It’s, um, Spaghetti. And I also made chicken, if you-- if you want that, too. I know it’s... it’s not much, but--”

“Shut up,” Tony says, slapping a hand over Steve’s mouth. “God, hon, this is... this is _perfect._ ”

Steve’s eyes soften even as he blushes. “Yeah?” he asks. It comes out muffled, and Tony pulls his hand back with a laugh.

“You betcha, stud muffin. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll leave enough for you.”

Steve’s laughter is warm on his cheek. “You won’t be sayin’ that when you see how much food I’ve made. We’ve got enough for leftovers for the whole team.”

"Well, I guess I can maybe learn to share,” Tony sighs, nuzzling into Steve’s shoulder. 

“You’re in a generous mood.”

“All your fault. You’ve got me feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.”

Steve’s smile grows. “Good. Now sit down before the food gets cold, will ya?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, sunshine,” Tony says, only to freeze when Steve _pulls out the chair for him._ “Steve--”

“Clock’s tickin’, Stark.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, feeling his own cheeks grow warm. “You don’t have to-- honey, it’s fine.”

“Please?”

Tony takes the seat with a helpless, giddy grin. “Sap, sap, sap.”

Steve, the bastard, just sits across from him, and holds out the Spaghetti plate. “Take however much ya want.”

“Obviously,” Tony says, and piles two heaps onto his plate. 

“Chicken’s on your left.”

“I see it, babe.”

“Cheese?”

“Sure.”

“There’s also some salad--”

“Steve,” Tony says softly, and watches his boyfriend take a deep breath before meeting his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just a little... it’s been a while since I’ve cooked anything. I hope it’s good.”

Tony feels love rush through him like a wave, warm and heady and almost overwhelming. He wants to lean over the table and kiss Steve again until they’re breathless and hungry for something far more important than food. But those blue eyes across the table from him are gleaming with so much hope, that Tony finds it easy to put aside his thoughts and focus on the obscenely delicious smells all around him, and the gorgeous man responsible for them. “ Sure it is.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m a genius, babydoll. I’m never wrong.”

“I dunno, I can remember a couple of times--”

“Nope, no,” Tony shakes his head. “Don’t ruin the moment, Rogers. Let me enjoy this.”

“That was the idea,” Steve says, biting his lip as he fiddles with his fingers. He’s so adorable, it’s almost too much.

“Any particular reason why you’re spoiling me today?”

“Hardly. You deserve a hell of a lot more than this.”

“I don’t want anything else,” Tony says, and means every single word. “Even if... even if I all I came home to was you and a take out box.”

“Tony--”

“And I... God, baby, I appreciate this so fucking much.”

“I was happy to do it,” Steve says softly. “I’d do it every day, if I could.”

“I know,” Tony replies around a lump in his throat, and then he smirks. “So... any desert after this?”

Steve flushes all the way down to his neck but doesn’t look away. “Tiramisu from Bertinelli’s.”

Tony manages to hold back a groan of pleasure. “Can we, y’know...” he waggles his eyebrows, and feels his heart skip a beat when Steve giggles.

“Only if you behave.”

“Cross my heart, Captain.

“I’ll hold you to that, Mister Stark,” Steve says, and as Tony picks up his first forkful of Spaghetti, he feels better than he has all day.


	125. The one where... Tony’s making sure their baby starts early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #19: “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Shhh. You’ll wake her up.”

“Tony--”

“Zip it,” Tony hisses, barely breathing as he positions his phone closer to their sleeping baby girl. A couple of taps later, he steps back with a proud grin. “There. Isn’t she just... God, hon, did we make a kick ass kid or what?”

“She’s beautiful,” Steve whispers, and the awe Tony can hear in his voice warms him more than he already is.

“God bless those All-American genes.”

“Irish, sweetheart.”

“Whatever,” Tony laughs. “Think any of me’ll show up later?”

“I know it.”

“Until then, though, she’s gonna have the whole fucking world wrapped around her finger.”

Steve wraps his arm around Tony from behind. “Tony, what are you doing?” he asks.

“Shhh,” Tony says again, but holds the phone over his shoulder to show Steve the screen.

“Is that...”

“Yep. I made it last night. She’s got half a million followers already.”

Steve’s laughing before he’s even finished talking, breath warm along Tony’s neck. “You made our daughter an Instagram account?”

“Oh, look at this one, this was the first one I put up,” Tony pulls up a picture of their baby at her high chair in the kitchen, looking up at the camera with wide blue eyes as she gives it a gummy grin. There’s a blob of apple sauce leaking out the corner of her mouth, but she’s still the most amazing thing Tony’s ever seen.

“ _Cad tá mé ag dul a dhéanamh leat?_ ” Steve chuckles, and oh, Tony’s knees suddenly feel a lot weaker.

“Playing dirty now?” He asks through a shiver.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but you know I’m not.”

“Why am I being punished, huh? I’m doing the world a favor--”

“I’m havin’ a hard time seein’ how.”

Tony glances back at him incredulously. “You kidding me, babe? Nobody can resist this,” he waves the phone around. “She’ll have ‘em eating outta the palm of her hand.”

“She’s not even a year old, Tony.”

“Even more impressive, babydoll. Now... here we go, watch--” he pulls the phone up to their eye level, and starts tapping at the keyboard. “‘Sweet dreams, NYC. See you in the morning.’ Hashtag ‘goodnight moon’.”

“I can't believe you."

"Tough luck, toots. But look..." He pulls up another picture, this one showing Steve and their daughter sleeping face to face; there's a soft morning glow coming from beyond the frame, and their matching hair gleams golden as they share a single white, fluffy pillow. "This one? My absolute fucking favorite," he says softly.

"'Sleepin’ in with Papa'," Steve reads the caption, and then pulls Tony in a little closer. "I didn't know you'd taken a picture. You never said..."

"I can't help it, I mean look at you," Tony replies, relishing the happy lurch his heart gives. He doesn’t think it should be possible to love two people this much. "I almost kept it to myself, but it's not like I don't get to keep you two to myself, so really. Never let it be said that Tony Stark's not a giver, right?"

"That's one word for it," Steve chuckles again.

"Is this what I get for sharing all _this_ with the world?" Tony waves a hand in Steve's direction before moving it to where their daughter lies sleeping.

"Shhhh. You wake her up, and there'll be hell to pay-- what," Steve says, when Tony turns in his arms to bury his head on Steve's shoulder.

"Shit, I just--" Tony manages to get out in between laughs. "I just realized this is our fucking bed, hon."

"....Oh."

"We're gonna... Jesus, were gonna have to l-leave her here. Again."

"Should I bring out the air mattress, then?"

Tony sighs, and nods. "The things we do for this kid."

"No regrets, though, right?" Steve asks.

Tony looks down at their daughter--at the rise and fall of her tiny chest, the pale pink fists clenched at her side, the wisps of blond hair framing her precious face-- and shakes his head. "Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Cad tá mé ag dul a dhéanamh leat?" : “what am I going to do with you?”


	126. The one where... Tony’s not jealous of the new girl at school. Really. (Except he totally might be.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #20: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Tony–”

“I’m not.”

Rhodey throws him a knowing look as he laughs. “Can’t bullshit me, buddy.”

“Shut up,” Tony grumbles, even as his eyes are drawn back to what he’s been trying to ignore all lunch. Fucking Steve and his fucking gorgeous smile…

God, he’s beautiful.

“You’re staring again.”

“What?”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Yes, honey bear?” Tony says, reluctantly turning away from the sight of Steve Rogers smiling at SHIELD High’s new foreign exchange student.

Rhodey rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re jealous of someone who’s been here less than a day.”

“Rhodey–”

“You really don’t see the way Steve looks at you, do you?”

Tony looks down at his plate when he feels his face start to burn. “Don’t,” he whispers.

“Tones–”

“It’s okay,” he shakes his head. “I’m– I’m not jealous.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Rhodey sighs, patting Tony’s shoulder as he gets up. “I gotta meet up with Carol for the Chem project, ‘kay? I’ll meet up with you after school.”

Tony looks up and nods. “Have fun,” he says, smiling as Rhodey leaves with one last wave. It’s only after he’s lost sight of his best friend that he lets out a curse and runs a hand through his hair.

A very familiar bout of laughter sends a pang of longing to his chest, and when Tony finds Steve making his way straight towards him, he takes a deep breath to quell the sudden swell of irrational panic.

“Hiya, Shellhead,” Steve slides into the space right next to him. He’s so close that their thighs and shoulders brush against each other, and goddamnit, those baby blues should be illegal.

“Hey, Cap,” he says, helpless to the smile that settles on his face.

“Sorry I was late–”

“No, that was my fault,” the pretty girl sitting in front of them says, right before she holds out her hand to Tony. “Margaret Carter, but call me Peggy, please.”

Tony tries not to envy the elegant lilt of her voice as he shakes her hand. “Tony Stark.”

“I know,” Peggy smiles, and jerks her head at Steve. “Your president won’t stop talking about you, y’know.”

From the corner of his eye, Tony sees Steve’s eyes widen. “Carter–”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the head honcho, the way he completely ignored everything else.”

Tony’s cheeks flush yet again. “Slacking off on your duties, Rogers?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I just… I–”

“Oh, quit fretting,” Peggy says good-naturedly. “You boys are so easy to rile up, and I’ve only just met you. I think I’m going to like it here.”

Tony finds he’s liking her more and more by the second.

“Now if you don’t mind,” Peggy continues, “there’s a blonde that’s been eyeing me since I came in here, and she’s cute as a button.” She leaves with a wink and a wave before either of them can reply.

“She’s, uh,” Tony clears his throat. “She’s something, huh?”

“Yeah,” is all Steve says, and oh, there’s so much awe in his voice, it hurts to hear it.

Until Tony turns, and catches Steve looking at _him._ “Um…”

“Sorry,” Steve looks away, face flushing a pretty shade of pink.

“So… You, uh, talk about me a lot, do ya?”

"Well, I might do it a lot less now.”

Tony grins through the butterflies in his stomach. “Nice to know you think I’m great.”

“I think you’re amazing.”

“ _Steve._ ”

“Sorry.”

“No, I didn’t– y'know, you keep apologizing, and I’m gonna start thinking you really mean it.”

Steve winces. “Sorry–” he starts, and then groans.

“You’re impossible,” Tony laughs. “Now go get me a second brownie from the cafeteria crones, will you?”

“You’ve already had one.”

“Then lemme have yours, please?” He bats his eyelashes, and leans over to kiss Steve’s cheek when the blond nods. “Thanks, gorgeous.”

“Only for you,” Steve says, more than a little breathless, and when Tony remembers what Rhodey’d told him only minutes earlier, he suddenly feels something close to hope bubble up inside him.


	127. The one where... Tony gets inked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #21: “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention of a needle? It’s brief, but there. Twice.

“You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

“Really?”

“Sure thing, sunshine.”

“Tony…”

“Hey, hey,” Tony says soothingly, waiting until Steve looks up at him to smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, but he’s fidgeting beside Tony– all hunched shoulders and hesitant baby blues– and he has yet to pick up the needle. “I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“It’s your first tattoo, Tony.”

“Which is why I’m here with you, gorgeous, instead of anywhere else,” Tony says. “Just don’t fuck it up, ‘kay?”

Steve’s face falls. “Tony–”

“Kidding, I’m kidding,” Tony reaches up to bop Steve’s nose, and then laughs when the blond wrinkles it a second later. “You’ll be fine, you won’t mess it up, I trust you.”

Steve takes a deep breath, and squares those broad, beautifully painted shoulders. “Okay,” he finally says. “I’m ready.”

Tony resists the urge to chuckle again, choosing instead to give Steve an encouraging smile. “Give it to me, peaches.”

“Call me that again and my hand might just slip later on,” Steve says, as he sits down on the stool in front of Tony and picks up the ink needle.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Zip it, and you won’t have to find out.”

Tony just settles back into his chair, closes his eyes, and revels in the feeling of Steve’s hand on his chest.

\- - - - -

Tony’s favorite tattoo is the one right above Steve’s heart.

The rest of his body, of course, is an absolute masterpiece– a rough outline of the Brooklyn bridge sketched along one side of his arm, a tiny hawk-feathered arrow on the other, and so many more among the maelstrom of colors covering that gorgeous Irish skin– but the first time Tony’d seen the neat row of zeroes and ones, he’d felt the air leave his lungs so quick, he’d half expected to faint.

He’s surprised that had been his only reaction, because seeing his name tattooed in binary code on his best friend’s chest was something he’d never even dreamed he’d ever see. But even now, years later, it still sends a wave of warmth rushing through Tony’s body.

“Tony?”

He looks up from where he’d been staring at those tiny number visible through the thin white tee Steve’s wearing, and meets those blue eyes he loves so much. “Hmmm?”

“You dozin’ off on me, Stark?”

“More like enjoying the view,” he leers, waggling his eyebrows as Steve sighs exaggeratedly. “You were saying?”

“I was remindin’ ya to keep this covered for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, you’re done?” Tony looks down at the white bandaged square on his sternum, and hears Steve chuckle fondly.

“Yes, sir.” 

“No problems?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“See?” Tony grins. “I knew you could do it, gorgeous!”

A pale, pretty flush settles on Steve’s cheeks. “Thanks.”

“Almost makes me wanna get a second one already.”

“Slow down there, Shellhead,” Steve flicks Tony’s arm. “Get used to this one first, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony says vaguely. “Can I–” he reaches up to pick at a corner of the gauze, only to have his hand slapped away softly.

“Nope. No peeking.”

“Steve–”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I told you I did, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Steve nods. “But for your own good, don’t touch anything. Please?” He widens his eyes innocently, even as Tony catches the knowing quirk of his lips.

“You’re playing dirty, Rogers.”

“Well, I have to, to keep up with you.”

“You’re doin’ alright, stud,” Tony smiles again. “You didn’t misspell it, right?”

“I think I know how to spell my name,” Steve replies, the slightest hitch in his breath when he says it.

“Not in binary.”

“Yeah, ‘cause ones and zeroes are so hard.”

“Ass.”

Steve looks up at him through his lashes, and when he starts fiddling with his fingers, Tony knows things are gonna turn serious. “Tony?”

“Hm?”

“I… I don’t really know what to say.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat. “Don’t have to say anything, sunshine,” he replies softly, reaching out to tap the familiar numbers on Steve’s pec.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says, and when Steve’s lips quirk up into Tony’s favorite smile, Tony knows he believes him.


	128. The one where... Steve and Tony are total experts at this by now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #22: “I can’t do this anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Tony–”

“No.”

“Just a little while longer–”

“I’m two seconds away from strangling the next one that comes running up to m–”

“ _Tonyyyyyyyyyy!_ ”

“Yes?” Tony asks, not quite managing to keep his smile from wavering as he looks down.

“Tony,” a pint-sized Rhodey squeals, tugging on Tony’s jeans enthusiastically. “I not s’eepy!”

Tony tries to keep his calm. “Can you at least try, honey pie?”

“I not a pie,” Rhodey giggles.

“I didn’t mean it literally, buddy.”

“…Tony?”

“Yes?”

“I want pie.”

“ _Cap_ ,” he groans.

Steve lets out a low chuckle as he leans down to sweep Rhodey into his arms. “Wouldn’t you rather go lie down next to Sam and Bucky?”

“Dey’re sleepin’.”

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, slowly rocking the little boy back and forth. “That’s because it’s three in the morning, and all good little boys should be in bed.”

“But I not tired.”

Steve catches Tony’s eye and nods, and with a sigh that’s almost a groan, Tony holds out his arms to take Rhodey. “I think you are,” he tries cooing, taking a cue from his Captain. “You had fun today, didn’t you?”

His onesie-clad friend nods. “Uh huh.”

“But y’know why everyone else is sleeping?”

“‘Cuz dey’re babies.”

Tony catches Steve’s grin, and smiles back. “Takes one to know one, kiddo.”

“ _Noooo…_ ” Rhodey yawns, rubbing an eye tiredly, and Tony feels hopeful for the first time that night.

“Yessss,” Tony replies. “And now it’s time to charge.”

“Wike Dummy?”

“Just like Dummy, bud.”

“Why?”

Tony just keeps rocking. “Well, don’t you wanna have fun again tomorrow?”

“…Yeah.”

“But if you don’t go to sleep now, you’re going to be so, so sleepy in the morning.”

“No.”

“Yes you will, baby bear. And you’re not going to want to do anything but sleep.”

“No,” Rhodey whimpers, and Tony moves him until his head is nuzzled into Tony’s neck, shushing him softly. “Wanna play…”

“I know you do,” he coos. “I know you’re sleepy, Rhodey. Go to sleep. Shhhh… _sleep_ …. there you go…”

Tony can’t help but close his eyes as he feels Rhodey slowly go limp in his arms– he’s halfway to dreamland himself– and doesn’t start when Steve touches his shoulder.

“You did good, Shellhead.”

“Shut up and help me get him to bed, Jesus Christ,” Tony mutters, opening his eyes to send a weak, sleepy glare at the blond. “I should make you deal with all of ‘em tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Tony scoffs. “Tell me that again when you’re dripping wet with milk and have tiny hands shoving Froot Loops down your shirt.”

Steve’s hand is comfortingly warm on the small of his back, and like he’s done countless times before, Tony revels in it. “You’re never gonna let that go, are ya?”

“Not a chance, hot shot,” he replies, just as they enter the room holding the rest of their teammates. “Make some space for this one, will you? And if you wake one of them up, I swear to G–”

“Done.”

Tony blinks. “Oh,” is all he says, and catches Steve’s sleepy smile over the top of Rhodey’s onesie hood.

“You wanna put him down, or should I?”

“Don’t think I can do it?”

“You’re so testy when you’re tired.”

“I’m testy all the time, cupcake,” Tony mumbles, and then holds his breath as he carefully settles his friend on the bed. Steve checks over the rest of the slumbering bundles– fixing hoodies and rearranging outstretched limbs– before stepping back.

“There’s a bed callin’ our name, genius,” he finally breathes out, and Tony’s too tired to bother excusing the blush that floods his cheeks. 

“ _Our_ names?”

“Oh–” Steve’s eyes grow wide, “no, I– sorry, I meant– yours, I meant yours, I don’t… know why I, uh–“

"Hey, don’t hurt yourself, handsome,” Tony says fondly. His heart beats just a little bit faster, a little bit warmer at the thought of sharing a bed with Steve. “I wouldn’t mind fallin’ into bed with you.”

Steve’s blush is as beautiful as ever. “Th-thanks.”

“At this point, I’d sleep with a fucking cactus next to me.”

“And… moment over.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Tony whispers, stumbling towards the door. “Comin’, Cap?” He asks over his shoulder.

Steve bites his lip, and nods shyly. “Lead the way.”

“Don’t forget the baby monitor.”

“Yes, dear.”

\- - - - -

“ _Tony…_ ”

Awareness comes slowly, settling over him like a soft, comfortable blanket, but he immediately knows he’s not alone.

“ _…Tonyyyy…_ ”

“ _Shhhh!_ ”

“ _I tired._ ”

“ _I hafta use duh potty._ ”

“ _…Tooooooooonyyyyyy…_ ”

“ _Why isn’t he waked up?_ ”

“ _I want eggs._ ”

“ _Tonytonytonyto–_ ”

“What,” he grumbles loudly, and smirks when the room erupts in hushed giggles, the mattress dipping all over as half a dozen baby Avengers arrange themselves around him.

“ _Tonyyyy._ ”

He bids the rest of his sleep goodbye, and opens his eyes to find bright, wide brown eyes inches from his face. “Uh…”

“Hi!” Barnes chirps, all crooked grin and floppy puppy ears framing his shaggy hair.

“Y’guys ever gonna take those things off?” Tony tugs the onesie-covered leg digging into his chest– he has no idea whose it is– and huffs out a laugh at the indignant yelp he gets in return. “There a reason you’re all in here? You hiding from Cap?”

“ _сюрприз_ ,” he hears Natasha whisper into his ear, red curls ticking his cheek as she plops down by his head.

“English?”

“Su’pwise!” Clint cheers from the bottom half of the bed.

“I hungwy,”

“Egg?”

“ _No!_ ” comes Wilson’s scandalized cry.

“Steeb…” Barnes buries his head in the pillow next to Tony’s, and narrows his eyes. “Steeb?”

“Not here,"Tony mumbles. "Obviously. He’s probably making breakfast for all you lucky ducks.”

“No duck! ’M a hawk!”

“I wan’ pancakes.”

“I’m not going to get more sleep, am I?”

“No!”

“JARVIS,” he calls out.

“ _Yes, Sir?_ ”

“Time?”

“ _Ten fifty four, Sir._ ”

“Where’s Steve?”

“ _Captain Rogers is currently in the kitchen._ ”

“Right,” Tony groans as he moves tiny bodies over to get out of bed. “Let’s go, then.”

“Can I’ve waffles?”

“You’ll have what everyone else is having,” he tells Barnes, yawning as his teammates scramble off the bed and line up in front of him. It’s only then that he realizes he’s one short. “Where’s Rhodey?”

“Sleepin’,” Sam shrugs. “I hungwy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Tony rolls his eyes, but when Steve greets them out in the living room with his gorgeous, ‘good morning’ smile, he thinks the early wake up just might’ve been worth it.

“I was wonderin’ how long it’d take you all to get back out here.”

“So much for last night’s promise, huh?”

“Sorry,” Steve says, even though he looks anything but as he holds out a mug. “Forgive me?”

v“God, it should not be so easy,” Tony grumbles, taking the coffee, and feels his heart skip a beat when his fingers brush Steve’s.

“Coffee?”

“Nope, sorry,” Tony lifts his mug over his head. “Coffee’s for big people, Tweety bird.”

Clint jumps up and down, big gray eyes wide and pleading. “I big!”

“Not right now, you’re not.”

“I want coffee!”

Steve sends Tony a wink, and then sighs dramatically. “I wonder what I’m gonna do with all those pancakes I made, then.”

More than one eye widens in anticipation, and Tony hides his grin behind the rim of his mug.

“I lost count of how many I made, but if coffee’s what you want, then… I guess I’ll just eat them all. Want some, Tony–”

“ _Noooo_ ,” Bucky gasps, patting Steve’s leg frantically. “Steeb! Nooooo! I wan’ pancakes!”

“Me too!”

“ _Yeaaaaaaah!_ ”

“Pan-cakes! Pan-cakes!”

“Well that’s a relief. Thanks for the help, Avengers!” Steve grins, herding their little group into the kitchen with a victorious smile. 

“You’re disgustingly great with them,” Tony says, and god, the sheer amount of awe he can hear in his own voice is pathetic.

But Steve just wraps an arm around Tonys shoulders, and leads him after their team. “That makes two of us.”

“Y’think?” Tony dares to ask. He almost doesn’t want to know the answer.

“I know,” Steve says, all earnest blue eyes and honest smile. “Now come help me in there, ‘cause I can’t do this without you.”

“Obviously.”

“Zip it, Shellhead.”

“Yes, dear.”


	129. The one where... Steve takes matters into his own hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #23: “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“ _I can’t stop thinking about you._ ”

“Aw, well ain’t you sweet, apple pie?”

“ _Tony, I’m serious._ ”

“I know you are,” Tony says softly, listening to Steve’s low, steady breathing over the phone. His hotel suite feels emptier than it had just minutes ago, even though he’s been the only in there, and he knows the reason for it is thousands of miles away. “I miss you.”

“ _Yeah?_ ” Steve asks.

Tony nods, even though no one’s around to see him. “Yeah.”

“ _How’s the conference going?_ ”

“Mind-numbing, Cap. I’m fucking serious,” Tony sighs, plopping down on the large, fluffy bed with a groan a second later. “Pep’s the only one out of the two of us who knows what I’m doing here. God, I’d kill for a cheeseburger right now. Even one of your sandwiches...” he trails off in a yawn, not bothering to remove his tie from where it hangs loosely around his neck. The only light in the room is coming from the lamp beside the bed, and even with his stomach rumbling with hunger, Tony feels his eyelids start to grow heavy.

“ _...omething today?_ ”

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry, Cap, what was that?”

There’s a muffled voice coming from the other end, along with a rustle of papers, before Steve speaks again. “ _Don’t worry about it. What’s the time over there, Shellhead?_ ”

Tony blinks. “...Late?” he replies.

Steve’s laughter warms him down to his toes. “ _You should be sleepin’, y’know._ ”

“But I...” Tony bites his lip, and takes a deep breath to gather his courage. “I waited all day to talk to you.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Don’t have anywhere to be till noon tomorrow, anyway.”

“ _What’d you have for dinner?_ ”

“Watermelon.”

“ _...That’s it?_ ”

“It was square, Steve. _Square._ ”

“ _Oh, you don’t say._ ”

“Uh huh. I’ll bring you back a whole patch of ‘em, yeah?”

“ _You don’t have to._ ”

“I’ll tell Pepper to set it all up,” Tony replies, and can’t hold back another yawn.

“ _So you didn’t eat anything else?_ ”

“No, Mom.”

He can almost _hear_ Steve’s frown. “ _Tony--_ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise I’ll have an extra special breakfast to make up for it, ‘kay, Cap?”

“ _Pinky promise?_ ” Steve asks, prompting a rare bout of giggles that Tony doesn’t bother muffling. 

“You’re such a boy scout.”

“ _Tony._ ”

“Don’t wear my name out, Rogers.” Steve stays silent, and after a couple of moments, Tony sighs. “Pinky promise.”

“ _That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?_ ”

“I’m going to hang up now.”

“ _Don’t let me stop you._ ”

“Ass.”

“ _Pot, kettle._ ”

“I take back the square watermelon promise.”

“ _I guess I’ll just settle for the round ones, then._ ”

Tony’s grin is wider than it’s been in days, even though his eyes are barely open anymore. “You do that.”

“ _Tony?_ ”

“Hmmm?”

“ _Go to sleep._ ”

“But I... wanted t’talk...”

“ _We’ll talk tomorrow_ ,” he hears Steve say, and with the sound of his Captain’s breathing in his ear, Tony finally lets sleep take him.

\- - - - -

The next day is an absolute mess.

He ends up missing his alarm, and instead, wakes up half past noon by a loud, irate Pepper shaking him from his sleep. The following hours, therefore, are spent sitting through even more business meetings, with Pepper a cold, unforgiving presence beside him.

It’s no surprise, then, that he doesn’t get to keep the promise he made to Steve.

So when he wearily makes his way through the door of his suite at the end of the day, it takes him an embarrassingly long amount of time to register the familiar, mouthwatering scent of grilled meat wafting from the suite kitchen. He takes off his suit and tie, rolls up his sleeves, turns the corner--

and feels the air leave his lungs.

“Hiya, Shellhead.”

“ _Steve_ ,” he says, but no, that can’t be right, Steve can’t be here because he’s back in New York, he’s _back home, back where Tony wants to be so much, it almost hurts_ \--

“I made burgers.”

Tony can’t stop staring. He’s not even sure he’s breathing as he looks at Steve, at his smile and his gorgeous baby blues, then moves down past the deliciously wide shoulders to--

“What the fuck is that?” he blurts, feeling his heart skip a beat when Steve starts laughing. 

“Gotta wear an apron when you cook.”

“Steve,” he says again.

“Don’t wear out my name, Stark.”

“What...”

“C’mere,” Steve says, and Tony... 

Tony does. 

He stumbles into Steve’s space, and breathes out a frankly pathetic sigh of disbelief when his forehead meets a warm, familiar shoulder. “What the fuck.”

“Language.”

“Bite me.”

Steve’s laughter sounds even better than it did last night. “Nice to see you, too.”

Tony takes a long, long moment to take in the blond’s comfortingly fresh scent, before pulling away. “What’re you doing here, Cap?”

“Whaddya think, genius?” Steve smiles. “Came to spend some time with my best friend.”

The words send happiness rushing through Tony’s body, and he honestly wonders if he’s ever been more breathless. “Why?” is all he can say.

“You know why.”

“Steve--”

“You hungry?” Steve asks, and Tony’s stomach rumbles before he can reply. “I’ve got your burger in the grill, you came just in time. Medium, right?”

Tony just nods.

“I’ve got Pepperjack, Cheddar, and American, and grilled or raw onions.”

“Any fries?” 

Steve grins. “You know it,” he says, and gently takes Tony’s wrist towards the kitchen island. “Wanna change before you eat?”

“No,” Tony says. “But speaking of changing, I gotta ask,” he runs a hand along the outline on the Iron Man suit printed on Steve’s apron. “Who do I have to thank for this little number?”

Steve’s cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. “Bucky thought it’d be funny.”

“It’s _something_ , alright,” Tony purrs, relishing in the surge of victory when Steve visibly shivers even as he rolls his eyes. “Who knew you’d look so good in my things, huh? Jesus Christ...”

“Watch it, Shellhead, or else I’ll eat all your food.”

“Fine, but only because I know you can actually do that. You’re fucking unreal.”

“Tony.”

“Yes, gorgeous?”

Steve just sighs. “You’re lucky I’ve missed you so much.”

“Not more than me.”

“Yeah?” Steve whispers, eyes wide and happy and the most perfect shade of blue that will ever exist, and Tony knows he’s going to remember this moment for as long as he lives.

But for now, he just nods, and twines his fingers with Steve’s as they sit down for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's Iron Man apron: www.stupid.com/assets/images/iron_man_1.jpg


	130. The one where... Tony has it all planned out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #24: “Lay down with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Lay down with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t remember the last time I saw you sleeping–”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

“Tony.”

“I just– give me five minutes, I’m… just about done… revising...”

“You said that two hours ago.”

“No I didn’t,” Tony says distantly, squinting closer at the screen of his laptop. “I was just…”

“Just what?”

“…Huh?”

Steve can’t help the fond laughter that leaves his lips. “Tony, come on. You’ve got class in four hours.”

“Class is tomorrow, honey pie.”

“Tony…. it _is_ tomorrow.”

Big, brown eyes snap to the window and out into the darkness beyond. “…Oh.”

“You got that right, Shellhead.”

“Sorry, am I keeping you up?”

“Only because you’re not in here with me,” Steve says softly, grinning when Tony rolls his eyes. 

“Fine, fine, you cornball. Lemme just… There. Saved. Now scoot over, will you?”

Steve doesn’t. Instead, he pulls his boyfriend’s thin, limp body on top of him, settling the warm covers around them. “No, I think this is better, don’tcha think?”

“I think you’re a dork and I don’t know why I love you so much,” Tony says tiredly.

“Love you too, baby.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“‘m sorry ‘bout ignoring you lately.”

Steve frowns. “Whoa, hey, Tony, no–”

“It’s just… my dissertation….”

“Tony, sweetie, no,” Steve says, tipping Tony’s chin up so their eyes meet. “Don’t apologize–”

“But–”

“Nope, no buts. I know how important this is to you, Tony.”

“I’m so fucking glad you’re here with me.”

Steve smiles. “Where else would I be, huh?”

Tony burrows closer into him. “Dunno. Don’t wanna think about it.”

“Fine with me, Dr. Stark.”

“Oh my god, don’t call me that,” Tony chuckles.

“Why not, Mister 'PhD number three'?”

“Don’t jinx it!”

“It’s already yours, genius.”

“…You think?”

“I know.”

“What do you know? You don’t even have _one_ PhD,” Tony scoffs, and then squeals when Steve flips them over, covers and all, and starts peppering kisses all over his face. “If this– _Steve!_ – if this is supposed to–” he breaks off into giggles, “– supposed to be punishment– _stop it, you meatball!_ – it’s not w-working.”

“Maybe I should leave then, since you’re bein’ mean,” Steve teases, grinning when Tony whines and locks his arms around Steve’s neck.

“No fucking way, babe. You were the one begging me to come back to bed–”

“I wouldn’t use the word beg–”

“– so now you’re stuck with me.”

“Can’t think of anything better,” Steve says honestly, and watches as a blush makes it way up to Tony’s cheeks. 

“You’re such a sap.”

“Well, I’ve gotta do _something_ if I’m going to keep up with you, don’t I?”

“No you don’t,” Tony says. “I’m keeping you with me for as long as I can.”

Steve feels his chest grow warmer than it has all night. “Yeah?”

“You betcha, sweet cheeks. Who else’s art am I gonna hang up on my top floor, CEO office wall huh? I don’t want anything shitty, no, no– I’m gonna have you _all over the place_ ,” Tony purrs.

“I like the sound of that,” Steve says, and feels Tony’s hand find his beneath the covers.

“So. Do. I,” Tony replies, pressing a kiss to Steve’s jaw after every word. “Now let me sleep, wouldja? I have class in four hours.”

Steve laughs even as he rolls his eyes, and as he watches Tony fall asleep, his lips quirk up into a smile he knows will stay all night.


	131. The one where... Steve’s not good at hiding things, but it all ends perfectly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #25: “What the hell is this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“What the hell is this?”

Steve barely has time to look up from his sketchbook before something small and dark hits his chest, and he’s about to ask Tony what’s the matter when he looks down and realizes what he’s just been hit with.

_Shit._

“I thought you knew what a ring looked like,” he replies, and looks up to see Tony’s face pale further. “Sweetheart--”

“Why do you have a ring, Steve?”

Steve stands up, holding the little black box in between his suddenly trembling fingers, and takes a step towards Tony, ignoring the pang of fear when Tony steps back a second later. “Why’d you think?”

Tony’s shaking his head before he’s even finished asking the question. “No, you can’t seriously-- Steve, what the fuck?”

His eyes are wild and bright, and the only reason Steve’s heart isn’t breaking is because behind the veil of terror in those brown depths, he’s pretty sure he sees something like hope. “Tony--”

“Tell me!”

“Because I wanna marry you, damn it!” Steve blurts, heart thundering in his chest as fast as the blood rushing in his ears.

Tony staggers back like he’s been hit. “ _What?_ ”

Steve takes a deep breath, and says it again. “I want to marry you.”

“No you don’t!”

Now it’s _his_ turn to start. “I’m-- excuse me?”

“You don’t want to marry me,” Tony shakes his head frantically. “You don’t-- Steve, you can’t.”

“I do.”

“No, you...”

Steve moves closer, and this time, Tony stays where he is. “Tony--”

“Why?”

“Why do I wanna marry you?” Steve asks.

The brunet just nods.

“Because you’re my best friend.”

Tony huffs out a humorless laugh. “That-- that’s not a reason to marry someone.”

“Then how ‘bout because I love you?”

“Steve--”

“Fine, you want reasons? I’ll give ‘em to ya,” Steve says, and then gets down on one knee. Tony makes a sound between a sigh and a sob, but doesn’t run away, so Steve takes it as a good sigh. “I wanna marry you because you’re the most amazing person I’m ever gonna know. I wanna marry you because you’re my partner in every way that will ever matter, and I don’t want that to change. I wanna marry you because you make me a better man, a better hero. I wanna marry you because for the rest of my life, I don’t wanna wake up next to anyone else. I don’t want to sleep or kiss or fight, or make love to anyone else. I wanna marry you because I wanna be your husband more than I’ve ever wanted to be anything else. I wanna marry you because I want you to be mine, and I want the whole damn world to know it. I wanna marry you because... because you gave me a home. You _are_ my home. I wanna marry you because I want you to never doubt that I’ve got you. For as long as I’m breathing, I’ve got you, baby.” He’s almost breathless by the time he’s done, but when he opens the little black box and holds it up to the love of his life, his hands are no longer shaking.

“You’re... s-serious?” 

“More than anything, sweetheart. So, whaddya say?”

Through the tears rolling down his face, Tony smiles down at him. “You h-haven’t asked me anything,” he hiccups.

Steve grins, and then squares his shoulders.“Tony Stark, will you marry me?”

“God,” Tony whispers, “I-- I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... yes. Yeah, I’ll marry you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Steve can barely see anything through the tears in his own eyes, but he manages to pull out the ring without dropping it, as he holds it out. “Can I...”

“Fuck yes,” Tony breathes shakily, letting Steve slide the ring onto his finger. “God, you... we’re really doing this?”

“You betcha, Shellhead.”

“Then get up here so we can seal the deal, will ya?”

Steve wastes no time in doing so, and with a bright, happy laugh, sweeps Tony into his arms to crash their lips together.


	132. The one where... Tony really should be used to this by now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #26: “How did we end up here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Chapter 83! :)
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“How did we end up here?”

“I have no idea.”

“I feel ridiculous.”

Steve chuckles lowly. “You’re not the one holding the leash.”

“…. Okay, yeah, you’re right,” Tony nods. “I’d much rather be holding this,” he jostles their daughter softly, soothing her when she whines into his neck. “Sorry, _bella_.”

“I f’give you, Daddy.”

“Thank you, baby,” he coos, kissing the beanie atop her head.

“Papa?”

Steve turns to them with a smile. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Cat?”

Tony meets Steve’s eye, and smirks. “Still on the leash, baby. Don’t see why we had to get up at the crack of dawn to walk him, though.”

“Cat likes bein’ up early, doesn’t he, sweetheart?” Steve asks. 

“Uh huh. Early.”

“God, you’re just like your Papa,” Tony mutters. “I feel betrayed every morning.”

Their daughter lifts her head to give him the sweetest little smile. “‘m sowwy, Daddy.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Tony sighs, kissing the tip of her tiny noise. “You having fun?”

“Uh huh,” she nods, and then points to the trees framing the path they’re walking. “Twees!”

“Yeah, look at all the pretty trees.”

“Dey’re big.”

“So very big.”

“Daddy, I like duh park.”

“I know you do, baby,” Tony says, and then laughs when he catches sight of their cat wriggling and pulling at the leash. “So does Cat.”

“Little thing’s stronger than he looks,” Steve mutters. “Wanna walk him for a bit, princess?”

“Yeah!” Their daughter says happily, squirming in Tony’s arms. “Daddy, down! Cat!”

“There you go,” Tony says, setting her down on the ground with another kiss to her head. “Go get him, pumpkin.”

She wastes no time in doing so. “ _Catcatcat_ ,” she giggles, squeezing the animal to her chest. “Papa, leash!”

“Magic word.”

“Sowwy,” she smiles, then– “p’ease?”

“Thank you,” Steve says, and gives her the leash. “Now hold on it, okay, sweetie?”

“‘kay.”

“And don’t run off, please. Walk right next to me and Daddy.”

“‘kay.”

“And–”

“Steve,” Tony interrupts him. “She’s _walking the cat._ ”

“But–”

“Look at them,” he nods in the direction of their daughter, who’s now strapping the leash to her wrist with that familiar furrow of determination on her tiny brow. She looks so much like Steve, it almost hurts.

In the very best way, of course.

“You good, _bella_?” he calls out.

Bella nods, giggling quietly as Cat rubs himself along her feet. “I good, Daddy!”

“That’s my girl,” Tony sighs, and then smiles when Steve wraps an arm around his waist. “See? She’s okay, babe. And frankly, it was her idea to do this at ass o’clock in the morning so really, she _should_ be doing this herself.”

“She’s four,” Steve laughs.

“If she’s old enough to be up at six, she’s old enough to walk him herself. God, I need coffee.”

“I’ll make you all the cups you want when we get home, okay?”

Tony turns his face to Steve’s shoulder, and breathes in his clean, comforting scent. “And French toast.”

“Whatever you want, honey.”

“Obviously,” he grins. “It’s the least you could do after dragging me out of bed to walk a cat. Jesus, it’s so fucking ridiculous…”

Steve pokes his side. “We both know I had nothing to do with this.”

“Bullshit, she gets all of it from you– the eyes, the smile, this ‘up before the sun’ schtick. All your fault, Rogers. Can’t say no to either one of you.”

“It’s nice, though, isn’t it? I’ve always loved this time of day.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

“I love you, too.”

“You’re a sap and I’m not doing this again.”

“Really? You gonna tell our daughter that?” Steve smirks.

Tony looks at their baby a couple of paces ahead of them, hears the soft, beautiful lilt of her voice as she talks to her cat, and groans. “I’m gonna have to do this again, aren’t I?”

“You betcha, Shellhead,” Steve replies, and as the three of them walk the quiet, dewy path through Central Park, Tony finds he doesn’t mind the thought at all.


	133. The one where... it’s the start of a beautiful friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #27: “You’re up early.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“You’re up early.”

Tony’s not expecting anyone to be in the kitchen at five in the morning, but even then, the sight of Steve Rogers buttering toast by the counter is not surprising.

Whether or not it’s unwelcome is yet to be determined.

“No such thing as a normal sleeping schedule for me, Capsicle,” he says. “You’ll get used to it.”

Steve nods. “Toast?” he asks tentatively, voice as soft as the morning light coming in from the large windows. It feels a little like ceasefire, and for the first time since their little Hellicarier fight, Tony accepts it.

“Sure,” he replies, hopping onto a stool with a quiet groan. “How’re you liking your room?”

v“You mean my _floor_?” Steve raises an eyebrow, and... huh. There’s a tiny, minuscule curve to his lips that Tony hadn’t been expecting.

“Same thing, right?”

“Not really, Stark.”

“Fine,” Tony rolls his eyes. “How do you like your floor?”

“Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Good,” Tony feels a grin come to his face, easy and genuine, and god, what is going on?

Where’s the arguing, the biting remarks, the insults?

Where’s the anger?

“I’d have been fine with just a room, y’know,” Steve continues, sliding the plate full of bread between them. “What am I supposed to do with all that space?”

“Dunno,” Tony shrugs. “Buy a pinball machine? Paint room? Make a mini aquarium? Whatever, go crazy.”

“Stark--”

“Tony,” he blurts. It’s echoes loudly around them. 

Steve bows his head, looks up at Tony through blond, unfairly long lashes, and nods. “Alright... _Tony_.”

“Much better.”

“Now have some toast?”

“Yes, sir,” Tony grins, and stuffs half a slice into his mouth. 

“Were you, um... working, down in your shop?”

He nods.

“That’s... that’s pretty neat. Can I, um...” Steve rubs a hand over his head, but doesn’t look away. “It’s okay if you say no, I don’t want to, um--”

“ _Cap._ ”

Steve squares his shoulders. “I’d like to see it sometime? Your shop-- only if you want to. I’m... I’m curious.”

“About what?” Tony asks, and he has no idea why he’s suddenly holding his breath.

“‘Bout where you work, where you... create things.”

“Oh.”

“I just... I know I’ve been an ass--”

Tony frowns. “Cap--”

“And I know I’ve said some things--”

 _Oh shit._ “Hey, no, Rogers--”

“But I’m sorry,” Steve says, and for all that Tony wants to run away, he finds himself rooted to his spot. “For everything. For what I said, back when we met.”

“You don’t...” Tony swallows the lump in his throat. “It’s fine.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s not. I wasn’t... I wasn’t in a good place back then,” he continues. “And that’s no excuse, I know it’s not. But I... I didn’t mean a word of it. I know it’s not true.”

 _It is_ , Tony wants to say.

“And I’d really like to, um, know more. About your ideas, and your inventions.”

“Okay,” he blurts.

Steve’s eyes grow wider and hopeful. “Yeah?” 

Tony nods. “Might not make a lot of sense, I tend to ramble when I’m, y’know... And I-- I get sidetracked sometimes.”

“That’s-- that’s okay,” Steve chuckles. “I’ll take what I can.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends... aren’t we? We’re a team?”

“I don’t work well with others.” The words are out before Tony realizes, like a reflex that’s been carved into his brain, and he’s beyond believing them, beyond doubting them.

But Steve...

Steve just keeps looking at him. “I happen to think you do,” he finally says. “And I’d... I’d be honored to call you my teammate. My friend.”

“It won’t-- it won’t be... easy,” Tony tells him. He can barely believe what he’s just heard, but he’s always been too selfish with the things that he loves. 

“I know,” Steve says. “But the best things almost never are. That just makes ‘em all the more worth it, in the end, right?”

Tony wants to ask him if he thinks all of this is worth it. If he thinks Tony’s worth it. He wants it so much, it almost hurts.

Instead, he just nods, and feels something warm bloom in his chest when Steve grins back.


	134. The one where... everyone has a well-earned vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #28: “This was a good idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“This was a good idea.”

“‘Course it was. All my ideas are good ideas.”

Steve just rolls his eyes, pokes Tony’s side, and relaxes further into the hammock. “Don’t make me laugh, Shellhead, else we’re gonna fall off this thing.”

Tony lifts his head from where it’s resting on Steve’s chest to glare at him. “If you drop me, I’ll kick your ass right off the island.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“How do you know?”

Steve tightens his arms around Tony’s waist. “Because no one else’ll put up with being used as your human pillow.”

“Lies. All of ‘em would kill for chance to be pressed up against all this,” Tony gestures to his body with a grin.

“Yeah, they sure look jealous right about now,” Steve jerks his head towards the shore in the distance, towards their teammates enjoying the cool, clear water coming to the shore in waves. They’re not all there-- Buck and Sam are playing cards inside the beach house, and Wanda’s curled into a book across the patio-- but Steve still relishes the happy, comfortable feeling of having them all close.

Not to mention the man lying on top of him...

“Y’know, it was so much nicer when you weren’t talking,” Tony says, resting his head back down.

Steve can hear the laughter in his voice, even if he can’t see it in his eyes anymore. “I’ll hold off on complimenting you next time, then.”

“Y’know, I came out here to have a good time, and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

Steve feels the hammock rock as he laughs. “Fine, fine. Truce?”

“Treat me to dinner, and you’ve got a deal.”

“All I know how to cook’s Spaghetti,” he admits bashfully.

“That’ll be better than anything I’ve had all week, so I’ll take it,” Tony says, thumb rubbing Steve’s bicep absentmindedly, and for all that his touch is whisper-soft, Steve feels it all over his body.

“Will you help me make it?”

“Only because you look fucking gorgeous in an apron,” Tony purrs.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve says softly, even as he feels his face grow hot.

“Doesn’t erase the fact that I’m right.”

“ _Tony..._ ”

Brown eyes turn up to meet his again. “Fine, I’ll stop,” Tony chuckles, fondness lacing every word, and Steve feels better than he has in days.

“ _Yo, Stark!_ ”

Tony doesn’t look up at the sound of Clint’s voice. “What!”

“ _...Got any jet skis?_ ”

“In the sheds. Don’t fuck ‘em up, alright?”

“I heard jet skis,” Barnes’ head pops up from inside, and both he and Sam are running off the patio seconds later.

Steve catches Wanda’s eye, returning the smile she gives him, before calling out after them. “Be careful!”

A wave is all he gets in return.

“You wanna join ‘em?” Tony asks.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m feelin’ lazy today,” he says.

“You were out running all morning-- you ran, what, three miles?”

“Seven,” Steve grins. “Told ya, I was feeling lazy.”

“Jesus Christ, why are you like this? It’s disgusting,” Tony groans, stretching out languidly, and Steve just barely keeps them from flipping over. “Y’know, this is why I flew us out here-- vacation, change of scenery, all that jazz. You should try it sometime.”

“I’m... used to a schedule. You’d probably have to tie me to the bed to keep me in it,” Steve says without thinking, and it’s only when Tony’s whole body starts shaking with the force of his laughter that he realizes what he’s said. “Shut up, you know I didn’t...”

“I’d be h-happy to... do that f-for ya, Cap,” Tony manages to breathe out in between bouts of laughter. His eyes are bright with mirth, hair tousled by the ocean breeze, and even with his blunder, Steve finds himself breathless at the beauty of it. “Really, just name the day, I’ll wake myself up at the crack of dawn to do it.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, but you’re so goddamn cute when you blush,” Tony says.

“I’ll take back that dinner offer.”

“No, you won’t.”

Steve just sighs.

“Seriously, Steve... Isn’t there-- isn’t there anything you wanna do here? I’ll... just, just say the word. I’ll make it happen. What do you want?”

“This,” Steve says, jostling Tony. “Our team-- our _family_ \-- out there relaxing. I want to see them smile, see them laugh and have fun. I want to run in the mornings and swim in the afternoons, and sleep to the sound of the ocean outside my window. And I want you. Here. With me.” He whispers the last word, and even though his heart is suddenly beating so hard, he’s sure Tony can feel it through their chests, he doesn’t move.

“You got it,” is all Tony says, cheeks blushing an utterly charming shade of pink.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” Tony winks, and Steve leans his head back, closes his eyes, and _breathes_.


	135. The one where... Tony feeds baby!Cap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #29: “Come back!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Come back!”

“No!”

“ _Steve._ ”

Wide blue eyes peek over from the other side of the couch, followed by a tiny, devilish grin. “No!”

Tony fights the urge to smile, and instead crooks a finger at his pint-sized Captain. His shoulders are heaving from chasing Steve all throughout the floor, but he thinks it might be worth it for the utter joy on the little blond’s face. “Last warning, Cappy bear.”

“I not a bear!”

“A puppy, then?”

Steve narrows his eyes. “ _Noooo…_ ”

“Hamster?”

“No,” Steve giggles, jumping up and down. He’s so close to the edge of the couch, Tony’s heart starts thundering in his chest– harder than it has all morning, with all the activity he’s been put through– and he takes advantage of Steve’s distraction to run up and sweep him into his arms. “ _Tonyyyyyyy!_ ”

“Gotcha.”

“ _Noooooo!_ ” Steve says again, squirming around Tony’s hold even though he hasn’t stopped smiling. 

“Come on, Rogers. Gimme a break, yeah?” Tony begs. “How ‘bout lunch?”

The wiggling stops immediately, and Steve puts his hands on Tony’s shoulders to steady himself. “Food?”

“Uh huh,” Tony nods. “Yummy grub, whaddya say?”

Steve furrows his brow thoughtfully, and the sight is so familiar, that Tony can’t help but press his lips to the side of his little blond head. “Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“I hungwy.”

“Just in time, huh?”

Steve gives him a proud grin.

“You in a pizza mood? Or hot dogs? Or Chinese?”

“Macawoni.”

Tony sighs. “You had macaroni yesterday.”

“I wike Macawoni,” Steve says softly, eyes growing wide and glassy as his bottom lip starts to wobble, and Tony fucking _folds_. 

What else can he do?

“No, hey no, fine, it’s good, Macaroni’s fine,” he stutters, rocking his arms back and forth. “Good, yummy Macaroni, okay? Don’t cry, sweetheart. Fu– _udge_.”

“...I wike fudge.”

“You can get fudge too,” Tony promises, breathing a sigh of relief when the tears disappear. 

Steve smiles again, nods, and tucks his head under Tony’s neck. “‘Kay.”

\- - - - -

It takes Steve longer than usual to finish his lunch, and Tony decides it’s all Barton’s fault.

“ _Tonyyyyy!_ ”

“Yeah, bud, I see it.”

“Ir’n Man!”

“Just like the one you showed me ten minutes ago. Just like the rest of the little Iron Men in your bowl there,” he points to Steve’s plate, still half full of Avengers shaped macaroni. “Do they taste good? Go on, eat ‘em and tell me when you finish.”

Steve obeys with a smile, only to hold out his spoon again less than five minutes. “Awwow! Tony, hawk!”

Tony resists the urge to face plant the counter. “We’re all in there, Steve.”

“Personally, I think I’m the best tasting one,” comes Clint’s voice from just outside the kitchen, and seconds later, the man himself strolls into the room. Tony, still determined to get Steve to finish his food, only just notices the rest of the team coming in behind him.

“You’re eating macaroni again, _малютка_?” Natasha smirks.

Steve nods around a mouthful of cheesy pasta.

“Can I have some?” Bucky plops down on the chair next to him, and smiles affectionately when Steve pushes his bowl at him. “Thanks, bud.”

“Nope, don’t– that’s _his_ ,” Tony reaches across the island to push it back in Steve’s direction.

“We brought sandwiches,” Rhodey holds up a bag.

“Thanks for the help,” Tony grumbles, even as he makes grabby hands at both. “What the f–” Wilson clears his throat, “ _fudge_ took you guys so long? Training session my a–”

“Here, just stop talking and eat this,” Rhodey grins, sliding a wrapped sandwich at him, and Tony’s just about to reply, except the smell wafts up to him and–

“Oh, god, is this…”

“Pastrami, yeah– hey, man, don’t choke, okay?” 

Tony doesn’t even pay attention to him, already moaning around a mouthful. The rest of the team settle themselves on all the chairs, unwrapping their own food with quiet, comfortable conversation, and Tony revels in the feeling of it all, until he looks back down to pick up his sandwich–

and finds Steve staring at it.

“What’s up, tater tot?” he asks.

Steve’s eyes snap to his, before looking away shyly. “‘m done…”

“Good job,” Tony says, not bothering to hide his smile at Steve’s blatant interest in his sandwich. “You still hungry?” From the corner of his eye, he sees their teammates look over with grins of their own.

“Wussat?” Steve mumbles.

“It’s pastrami.”

“Wussit taste wike?”

“Awesome,” Tony replies, just barely holding back the urge to coo at those wide baby blues. “Want to try?”

Steve bites his lip, and nods.

“You’re so gone, it’s not even funny,” Clint crows, but when Steve grins at him after taking a bite, all dimpled cheeks and pastrami hanging from the corner of his mouth, Tony’s pretty sure he might not even mind.


	136. The one where... Steve is Tony's first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #30: “Stay the night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Stay the night?”

“What about your Mom--”

“Tony, you know my Ma’s always happy to have you. I bet she’ll make plates of French toast when she finds you here in the mornin’,” Steve grins softly. His hair’s already tousled and matted from sleep, and really, Tony thinks as he settles in next to him, that’s an unfairly lethal combination.

“I’m so fucking easy, Jesus Christ,” he sighs. “Now put those eyes away, will ya?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Steve says, and the happy little hum he gives when their sock clad feet meet under the covers sends something warm down Tony’s spine. “‘m not doin’ anything...”

“Nope, can’t fool me, big guy,” Tony replies, even as he inches his head just a little bit closer to Steve’s. “I’m onto you.”

“If you say so.”

Tony feels his eyelids grow heavy, but keeps them open when Steve calls his name. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for... y’know. Today.”

“You were my first,” Tony says without thinking, and then widens his eyes open when Steve’s breath hitches loudly. “First to tutor-- first _tutee_ \-- I mean-- shit, you know what I mean. Jesus, this is your fault.”

“That’s... you’re good at it,” Steve finally says, amusement clear in his voice even as his cheeks flush the prettiest shade of pink. “I’m usually okay with my Math, but lately, it’s um.... it’s getting a little-- well, not a little, it’s a lot more confusing. Today sure helped, though.”

“Good,” is all Tony can say. “How’s, uh, your art final going?”

Steve nods through a yawn. “Just fine. Had a bit of a late start, but I’m on track now.”

“Yeah? What’re you drawing?” Tony asks, and watches with rapt attention as Steve suddenly can’t meet his eyes. “Oh, hey, whoa, is it... is it me?”

“Tony--”

“You drawin’ me like one of your French girls, hmm?” He drawls. “You didn’t even ask me to pose--”

“Shellhead--”

“I would’ve done it gladly, I can do it now, I’m already in your bed--”

Steve’s giggling into his pillow by now, with only the corner of his gorgeous grin peeking out to send Tony’s heart into flutters. “ _Shut up!_ ”

“Aw, don’t be shy, sweet cheeks,” he coos, only to let out a yelp when Steve pulls him close and all but buries Tony under his warm, disgustingly firm bulk. “What the f-- _get off me, you lug, I can’t_ \-- can’t _breathe_ \--”

“Stop makin’ me laugh, you menace,” Steve whispers loudly, in between hushed laughter. “My Ma’s gonna come in if we’re too loud.”

Tony stops immediately. “You’re the one pressing me into the mattress,” he replies, and tries not to feel disappointed when Steve rolls off him immediately.

“Sorry.”

“I’m not,” he dares to say, meeting Steve’s eyes once more. “You... you smell good.”

“It’s the fabric softener Ma uses-- ’s called ‘spring meadows’.”

“Oh. It’s...” _Incredible, amazing, fucking perfect._ “...nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, his smile is sweet as ever, and Tony wants to kiss him so much, it hurts.

“So, um... what’re you drawing, really?”

“I thought I’d, uh, do some body parts. I have Nat in her ballet slippers, and, um, Clint’s arms. And Buck’s smile, and... everyone else.”

“They’re gonna be so kick ass,” Tony tells him.

“Well, you’re in there too, so I’m hoping it will be.”

“What, um...” God, Tony’s _scared_ to ask, but he does it anyway. “What’d you, y’know, draw for me?”

“Your eyes,” Steve says softly, and Tony’s heart makes a particularly pathetic little lurch.

“Oh.”

“If that’s okay with you...”

“It’s fine,” Tony blurts. “It’s... God, it’s more than okay.”

“Do you wanna see ‘em?” Steve says, but when he starts to sit up, Tony’s quick to pull him down. 

“Nope, not right now,” Tony tuts, curling further into him. “I’m freezing my ass off, and you’re just about the warmest thing in here.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sadly. “The heater’s actin’ up again...”

“I’ll take a crack at it tomorrow.”

“Tony, you don’t have to--”

“Mmm, sure I don’t,” Tony mumbles, eyes growing heavy again. “But I will...”

Beside him, Steve lets out a deep, long breath. “If my Ma doesn’t make French toast, I’ll make ‘em for ya myself, alright?”

Tony feels his lips quirk up into a smile. “You’re going to spoil me, gorgeous.”

“You know I’d do a hell of a lot more for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tony says, and falls asleep to the feel of Steve’s fingers around his own.


	137. The one where... Steve and Tony get more than a glimpse into their future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer of Stony prompt #31: “Say that again.”
> 
> (Only TWO MORE PROMPTS after this one, and then I'll be all caught up! :D *sobs quietly*)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Say that again.”

“It’s an Iron Man suit.”

“Not possible,” Tony says immediately, feet picking up pace as he follows Coulson down a crowded HQ hall.

“We thought it was you at first,” Coulson replies, “until Hill noticed some… discrepancies.”

“Like?”

“You’ll see. We had to shoot it down with an EMP to bring it in.”

“That’s– there’s no fucking way…” Tony trails off, mind racing with thoughts and questions and the repercussions if what he’s hearing is true.

“Was it attacking the city?” Steve asks. His shoulder brushes against Tony’s with every step, and it’s the only thing keeping Tony from full-blown panic.

“No,” Coulson shakes his head. “But I’m sure the team told you about the portal it came out of.”

“Just that it was here and gone in a flash.”

Coulson suddenly looks wary, and motions for them to walk faster. “That’s all they know, but–” 

“Was there someone inside?” Tony interrupts, and feels something in his chest tighten when Coulson nods. 

“That’s partly why we called you both in.”

“Aside from the fact that he’s the Captain, and it’s my fucking tech?” Tony all but snarls. “What could possibly be more important than that?”

“The person inside… is a woman. And she’s refusing to talk to anyone but the two of you.”

\- - - - -

Tony’s first thought when he sees her, oddly enough, is that she looks awfully familiar. He doesn’t know how– the answer is just out of reach, no matter how hard he tries to grasp it– but the thought is there all the same, and it doesn’t feel like it’ll go anywhere anytime soon.

“Where’s the suit?” He asks, finding it surprisingly difficult to look away from the woman sitting in the interrogation room on the other side of the glass window.

“We have it in lab three,” Coulson says quietly. “Security clearance nine only.”

“Keep it that way.”

“Oh, we will. But she didn’t make it easy– knocked three agents unconscious before we were able to take it from her.”

“Is it possible she might’ve stolen it?” Steve turns concerned blue eyes at Tony. “Maybe–”

“No,” Tony shakes his head, absolutely certain that he’s telling the truth. “No one can get their hands on any of it.”

“Then you better get in there and get some answers,” Coulson jerks his head at the window, just as the door to the other room opens and Agent Melinda May steps in.

The woman at the table takes one look at her, scoffs, and then– “ _Quante volte devo ripetermi?_ ”

“She doesn’t speak English?” Tony hears Steve ask, but most of his attention is still on the golden haired woman and her flawlessly spoken Italian.

But Coulson just smirks ruefully. “She does. And then some.”

“ _Я хочу поговорить с Тony Stark и Steve Rogers._ ”

“Why don’t you answer some questions for us first?” Agent May moves closer to the table.

Bright blue eyes stay fixed on the glass window. It’s almost like she’s looking through it, right at Tony. “ _Je veux parler à Tony Stark et Steve Rogers._ ”

“Where did you get the suit?”

“ _Quiero hablar con Tony Stark y Steve Rogers,_ ” is all she says, as fluently as the previous three times.

“What was that portal you came through from?”

“ _Ba mhaith liom labhairt le Tony Stark agus Steve Rogers._ ”

“That’s– that’s Irish,” Steve steps up to the window. “How many languages does she know?”

“We don’t know,” Coulson sighs. “More than any of us, most likely.”

“Alright,” Tony squares his shoulders, “time to step up to the plate. Comin’, Cap?”

“Can’t believe you even have to ask,” Steve replies, eyes steely with determination, but just before reaching the door, he steps close into Tony’s space. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice as soft as the fingers that brush against his hand.

“No,” Tony replies truthfully, and doesn’t pull away. “But I’m done just standing around.”

“After you, then.”

“Charmer.”

“Only with you, Shellhead,” Steve winks, and walks the rest of the steps to the next door. “But please remember to play nice in there.”

“Can’t make any promises,” is all Tony says before the door opens and they walk in.

The first thing Steve does is greet Agent May, which is why Tony is the only one who sees the young woman’s face change the moment she realizes who they are, eyes widening with shock and lips trembling even as they quirk up into the most relieved smile Tony’s ever seen.

“Took you long enough,” she says, jutting out her chin in an all too familiar way. “What’d you do, stop for drive through?”

Tony somehow manages to control the urge to start screaming about how she got her hands on a suit like his, and instead takes the chair at the other end of the table. “I’d ask how you know who we are,” he says, “but since you stole my suit–”

“I didn’t steal it.”

“ _Bullshit._ ”

“I can see why you’d think so,” the woman shrugs, “but that suit is mine. I swear.”

“How the fuck can it be yours?” Tony asks.

“You gave it to me.”

Tony barks out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Well you’re just full of shit today, aren’t you?” he sneers, and watches her sigh into her handcuffed hands. They’re pale and delicate, but he’s surprised to see hints of calluses and faint scars.

They look almost like… torch burns.

“Look, I’m just– ugh, I should’ve started out with this first,” she says, looking back up to meet his eyes. “And I know it’s gonna sound ridiculous, but it’s the truth and I _really_ hope you’ll believe me. You always like to give people the benefit of the doubt, right?” She moves her gaze above Tony’s shoulder, clearly directing the question at Steve.

“Hit us with your best shot, kid,” Tony says, and almost startles at the nickname as it falls from his lips. The woman obviously catches it too, because her eyes turn soft and fond, and distant. “Hey, come on, clock’s ticking.”

The blonde comes back to with a jerk, and then takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulder. “I’m from the future–”

Tony doesn’t let her get any farther than that. “Okay, I’m outta here,” he says loudly, standing so fast, he almost sends his chair toppling behind him. “Good luck in prison–”

The woman groans. “Oh, for fuck’s sake–”

“Language,” Steve snaps.

“I’m telling the truth–”

“Steve, I’m heading down to the lab–”

“Please!”

“Tony,” Steve walks towards him. “Maybe she’s–”

“No, she’s not, because that’d be crazy–”

“DUM-E wasn’t the first bot you built, was he?”

Tony’s hand freezes inches from the doorknob, and when he turns back around, the woman’s eyes are as wild as he knows his own are.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, struggling against her cuffs like she wants to fling herself at him. “I’m sorry, _I’m so sorry_ , you– I know you never wanted anyone else to know but I don’t know what else to do, I don’t know how else to convince you–”

“Who told you?” Tony rasps, and oh, his heart is beating so hard now, hard and fast and terrifyingly pained. He’s sure the other two can hear it. “N-no one knows–”

“I do,” she nods. She looks so desperate, it’s almost painful. “You were twelve, and you wanted gran– you wanted him to notice.”

“S-stop,” he stutters, clenching his fists to keep them from shaking. “Did I…”

“You told me.”

“Why?”

“I… don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Why are you here?” Steve asks gently, taking over Tony’s vacated seat and leaning forward. “Are you in danger? Is something wrong in… well, where you’re from?”

The woman looks at him with what Tony can only describe as pure, unadulterated adoration, before chuckling in amusement. “Sorry to disappoint ya, but this is all our fault. We have way too much free time.”

“‘We’?”

“The Avengers,” she grins proudly, the curve of her lips unsettlingly familiar, and–

Realization hits Tony like a ton of bricks.

“ _She looks like you_ ,” he blurts, whirling to face Steve.

“Wha–”

“Why does she… Steve. _She has your eyes_ ,” Tony whispers, a faint, warm tendril of something unfurling in his chest even as his mind screams he’s lost it.

The woman is still smiling. “Well, they do run in the family.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to freeze. “You mean…”

“Congrats, Pops. Your genes trumped dear ol’ Dad’s.”

Tony lets out a laugh before she’s even finished talking, one as hysterical as he suddenly feels, almost breathless at the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm him because _holy shit, there’s no way this is real, there’s no way any fucking version of him could ever get to have something like this, he could never deserve any of it_ –

“Tony…” he hears Steve’s voice, soft but unwaveringly firm– like the hand resting solidly on his shoulder– and slowly but surely, it brings him back.

“You good, Dad?”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me. Just… give me a moment…” he takes a deep breath, and finds the courage to look at the woman– at his _daughter_.

Jesus Christ…

“Probably could’ve dropped the ball a little better than that, huh? Sorry.”

“So me and Tony are…” Steve sounds so hopeful, so happy, that it almost brings Tony to tears. 

“Yep,” their daughter nods, lips quirked up into that same crooked smile Tony gets to see everyday, gets to _kiss_ everyday, and God, how did Tony miss it? “But don’t ask me more, ‘cause I’m not fucking with the space time continuum for shit.”

“Oh, look, there go your genes,” Steve says, and Tony doesn’t think anyone could miss the awe in his voice.

“Better believe it, Pops. Now, can one of you do me a solid and bring my suit around? I have no idea how long I’ll be here, but I’m betting it won’t be for long– they probably called you as soon as I went ‘poof’– and there’s no way I’m leaving my baby with any of you, no matter who you are. So pretty please? Uncle Agent!” she calls out, and Tony’s heart makes a pathetically happy little lurch when he realizes she’s talking to _Coulson_ through the window. “Uncle Agent, I promise I’m not a Skrull! And you know you’ve alway been my favorite– wait, no you don’t. At least not yet. But you are!”

But when there’s no response, she knocks her cuffs against the metal table, chains clinking loudly through the room. “I can do this all day, y’know!” She yells, and then, to Tony and Steve: “I got handcuffed to DUM-E once, when I was four– don’t ask– and, well… let’s just say he ran away from me for months afterward…”

\- - - - -

By the time Coulson enters the room with a sleek, red metal briefcase, Tony’s lost count of how many time’s he’s found himself staring unashamedly. Steve’s not much better, to be honest, but their daughter just seems to drink all the attention up happily, even if she doesn’t say anything else about herself.

She definitely gets that from Tony.

“Figured out where all the self-destruct triggers were, I see,” she says casually, even as her eyes turn that familiar, determined shade of steely blue.

“We’ve learned a thing or two from dealing with Starks and their inventions,” Coulson replies, setting the case down on the table. “Figured it wouldn’t be much different with you, Ma’am. Especially considering your… newly discovered connections.”

“And don’t you forget it, Agent. Now can you get me outta these things please?” She jiggles the cuffs again, sighing in relief when Coulson obeys, and then hugs the briefcase to her chest. “So, last time this happened–”

“‘Last time’?” Steve says, incredulous and concerned all at once, and really, Tony doesn’t blame him one bit because _what kind of parents are they?_

“This ain’t my first rodeo, Pops– we’re a rowdy bunch, the little ones. Besides, I know you and Dad’ll always come for me.”

The sheer belief in her voice almost brings Tony to tears again, but instead he leans against the wall with more aplomb than he feels, and crosses his arms against his chest. “So, last time…”

“I was only gone for three hours. You– well, not _you_ you. _My_ you. Future you– put security measures in place in case it ever happened again. It hasn’t even been two hours, here.”

“How do you know?” Steve asks.

“I caught the time on Agent Ward’s wristwatch just before I took him down,” she smirks. “And then I looked at yours a couple of minutes ago. That’s the one you gave him, isn’t it, Dad?”

Tony can’t keep his face from growing warm, or his lips from quirking up into a disgustingly happy little smile when he sees Steve look down shyly.

“Some things never change.”

“Is there anything we should know about when you… disappear?” Coulson cuts in. “Anything we should be ready for?”

“It’s… I dunno, loud? And _really_ bright. God, I wish I could explain it,” she wriggles in her seat. “The science, I mean. It’s– it’s fucking brilliant! Took us days to come up with it, drove Pops crazy–”

“You helped?” Tony blurts. “You’re…” _Like me_ , he’s almost afraid to ask.

But his daughter just smiles, and he wonders if it’s possible to love someone you’ve just met. “Oh, Daddy– I may look like Pops, but this?” she taps her temple. “This is all you.”

“Well, it’s only fair,” he replies, only barely managing to keep his voice steady.

“I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve told me th–”

A sudden blinding flash of light cuts her off, and before Tony can even blink, it forms a circle only feet away from them. Steve’s on his feet immediately, moving between them and the portal without hesitation. But their daughter just pops open the briefcase, and whoops as a metal suit expands and wraps itself around her.

When the last lock on her helmet locks itself into place, It’s like looking into a mirror.

“You’re… Iron Man?” Coulson shouts at her, over the loud roar filling the room.

“Iron Woman, Uncle Agent! Get with the program!” She laughs, and then turns to Steve. “Guess my ride’s here! I’ve got it from here, Papa!”

Steve looks unconvinced, and more determined than Tony’s ever seen him. “No, I don’t like this–”

“Too bad, ‘cause I’m going through it either way! Do you trust me?” She shouts.

“It’s not you–”

“Do you trust Dad?”

Steve looks at her, and then at Tony. “Always.”

“Then get the fuck outta my way!”

“Language!”

She laughs again, joyous and free and everything Tony will ever want her to be. “God, I love you, Pops!”

The circle flashes again– brighter this time, if that’s even possible– and Tony faces his daughter with a thundering heart.

“It’s about to pull me back!” She tells him. “I’ll be fine, though! You’re on the other side, I’ll be okay!”

“Are you happy?” The words are out before he can catch them and bury them back in his chest, but he doesn’t regret saying them because goddamnit, he has to know.

“What?”

“This is…” _the last thing I would’ve ever wanted for my kid_ … “I just– I need to know!”

“Oh Daddy…” his daughter leans in, strands of blonde curls escaping from the open faceplate and brushing his face as she kisses his cheek. “Who do ya think you’re talkin’ to, huh? I chose this! I’ve always wanted to be a hero like my Pops! Like _you_!”

“But–”

“Nope! No but’s, old man! I love every second of it, almost as much as I love you!”

“You’re insane, kid!” He finds himself laughing.

“Well I am my father’s daughter!”

“Which one would that be?”

“Both of you, of co–”

Another bright flash sends shockwaves through the room, and when Tony opens his eyes– when did he close them, _why_ did he close them?– she’s gone.

\- - - - -

Tony knows Steve’s awake.

His breathing is deep and steady, chest rising and falling in a way that never fails to comfort Tony, but the hand holding his hasn’t gone limp, and it hasn’t let go.

“I always knew you’d make a wonderful father,” he hears Steve whisper, and closes his eyes to fight the sting of sudden tears.

“Steve–”

“I saw how you couldn't stop looking at her, and… God, I fell in love with you all over again. And I know it might be too early to be talking about–”

“Any of this?”

Steve’s quiet chuckles echo through both their chests. “Pretty much. But I just… I need you to know that I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have a family with. I don’t want anyone else. Ever.”

“You can’t know that,” Tony shakes his head, almost cursing when a lone tear falls down his cheek and lands on his pillow because he suddenly wants so much, wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

“Guess I’m going to have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure thing, Shellhead. We’re gonna do just fine,” Steve says, and as Tony finally lets sleep take him, he finds that he almost believes him.


	138. The one where... those three little words are said for the first time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The first time Tony says I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I'M SO SORRY, IT'S LATE, I KNOW IT'S LATE, BUT I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO PUT IT UP EARLIER CUZ I WENT IN TO WORK EARLY AND I JUST HAD THE WORST TIME AND I'M SO TIRED 
> 
> but here it is.... I hope you guys enjoy it. :)

The first time Tony says ‘I love you’, it just slips out.

And to make things worse, the _whole team_ is there.

They’re gathered on the couch in the middle of the afternoon– and it’s rare that they all get time off like this, so they take advantage of it, settling in to watch a movie– except Tony, because he has an interview and photoshoot with TIME, and Pepper, who’s going as his buffer even though _this is so beneath me, Tony, seriously, I’m your CEO, I shouldn’t have to hold your hand through everything anymore._ But Tony just flashes her his most charming grin, and she sighs resignedly.

“Alright I gotta– where the fuck’s my– I gotta go, shoot’s running late,” he says, scrambling to find his phone and sunglasses. Everybody just snickers in response, and he has no idea why until Steve just grabs Tony’s wrist as he’s rushing past and–

“On your head.“

Tony freezes and then reaches up to feel them. “Thanks, baby doll,” he teases, smiling sweetly at Steve, who rolls his eyes even as he blushes, and ignores everyone else’s knowing glances. Pepper finally finds his phone in the kitchen, so Tony fist bumps Rhodey and Thor, waves at Sam and Bucky and Bruce and Clint, sends Natasha a playful wink and then–

“Take care of the kids, Cap,” he mumbles distractedly, tapping at his phone now that it’s in his hands.

“They know the rules,” Steve replies.

“They better. And leave the light on for me when I get back.”

Steve rolls his eyes again. “I’ll have dinner ready on the table, too.”

“Perfect. Love you,” Tony says, then leans down, grabs a fistful of the blond’s shirt, and kisses him square on the mouth.

It takes him a second to realize what he’s done, and then he jumps back like he’s been burned.

“Shit! Sorry, I’m– _fuck_ ,” he stutters. The living room is suddenly more silent than he can ever remember it being, and he runs to the elevator before anyone can say a word. Pepper hurries after him, and he slams the close button so she can’t reach him.

She doesn’t, and Tony flees into the workshop, locks it down, and skips the interview.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

“You need to get back up there.”

Tony almost drops the wrench he’s holding at the sudden sound of Barnes’ voice behind him, but he manages to keep his composure. “Barton been teaching you how to crawl through the vents?”

“Don’t need the vents– more than one way in, ya know.”

“Good,” Tony snaps, without turning to look at him, “then you can get back out the same way.”

“Stark–”

“Don’t,” Tony snarls, shaking his head frantically and oh, his heart is beating like a jackhammer now because he’s been ignoring it for hours, but Barnes is here and if they start talking about it, it’ll be real and _Jesus, what the fuck was he thinking, he’s so fucking stupid, shit, everyone’s probably been laughing at him the whole day– or worse, feeling pity– and Steve will probably never be able to look at Tony in the eye again, he’ll probably feel uncomfortable and Tony might have just lost his best friend, oh god, Tony can’t lose him, Steve is…Steve is everything_ –

“Christ,” Barnes’s voice breaks through the chaos, and then he grabs Tony’s shoulder and pushes him all the way to the ratty couch against the wall.

“You fucking listen to me,” he points at Tony, crouching down in front of him. His eyes are dark and serious, but there’s a calmness in them that settles Tony a little, even as his hackles rise at being ordered. “Get up those stairs and go find Steve–”

“No,” Tony shakes his head, and god, just the sound of Steve’s name is almost enough to send him running again.

“I said _listen_ ,” Barnes hisses, and Tony’s brain grinds to a halt. “You’re going to shut this down,” he waves his hand around the workshop, “you’re going to change out of those grease monkey rags, wipe every bit of grime off that mug of yours, then you’re going to find my best friend and say those three words again, to his face–”

“I’m not–”

“You’re going to do it,” Barnes continues, voice rising to drown out Tony’s words, “because it took Sam, Thor, Barton, and Rhodes– all of them– to hold him down after you ran off. You’re going to do it because none of us can take any more of seeing you and Steve act like the sun shines out of each of your asses. You’re going to do it because you are a lot of things, but a coward ain’t one of ‘em.”

Tony shakes his head. “Steve…” he breathes the name, and closes his eyes when they start burning– partly out of shame, but mostly because he’s _so fucking scared_. “I’m gonna lose him.”

“Look at me,” Barnes says, and when Tony does, he’s surprised to see the soldier smiling at him. “I’m pretty sure I still know him better than anyone, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be down here if I didn’t know for a fact that Steve is just as gone for you as you are for him.”

Tony can’t help the disbelieving laugh that climbs out of him, and almost looks away again when it comes out a little like a sob.

But Barnes just shakes his head knowingly. “You two are a piece of work, I can’t believe you don’t see it– actually, scratch that, I _can_ believe it. Steve’s always been an oblivious little punk, and you can’t see past the end of your nose most days, when it comes to all them pesky feelings. I got you pegged, though.”

“That’s what they all think,” Tony says, and he’s more than a little surprised when his voice comes out steady, and just a little bit lighter than before.

“Whatever you say, Stark. Now come on, up and at ‘em,” Barnes grins, rising from his crouch and jerking his head toward the door. “And I’ll tell you what: if I’m wrong– which I’m not– I’ll even let you hit me right in the kisser.”

“If you’re wrong, I’m gonna do a lot more than that. With my suit.”

Barnes shrugs. “Fair enough. Now go get your man– and actually, forget the cleaning up part. I bet my arm he’s got half a mind to come down and break those doors with his shield if he doesn’t see you in the next five minutes.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

The moment they step out the elevator doors, every head turns their way.

Pepper and Rhodey are the first to step forward, concern evident in the furrow of their brow, but he gives them what he hopes is an comforting smile, even though every bone in his body is screaming at him to run away again.

This time, where no one can find him.

He sees Natasha and Bruce next, and Clint a couple of feet away, then he steps further into the room and finally… there’s Steve, stopping mid pace, right in front of the floor to ceiling glass windows that give them the best view in the city.

But Tony only has eyes for him.

Steve’s eyes are big and wide and worried, and so fucking blue that Tony almost starts crying again because Jesus, this man is the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen and heard and touched and known, and _loved_.

He’s it.

Steve takes a step forward. “Tony…”

“Right,” Clint says, and in the heavy silence, it comes out louder than he’d probably meant it to. “As much as I think we’d fucking enjoy watching what’s about to happen–”

“Clint,” Natasha says, warning loud and clear in that single syllable.

“We should probably go,” he sighs in defeat, and starts shepherding everyone out the way Tony came. Rhodey and Sam and Thor pat his shoulder as they pass him, and Pepper kisses his cheek. Bucky gives both of them a smile and a thumbs up before leaving, and then they’re alone.

Tony takes a breath, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking and fiddling. “So–”

“Did you mean it?” Steve blurts out, and he’s suddenly _right there_ in front of him, almost looming over him with those shoulders, those eyes that Tony’s dreamt about so much.

“Yeah,” he says without thinking, but then Steve gasps and–

_Oh._

_Shit._

“I, I mean… _fuck_ ,” he stammers, stepping back. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , his brain is screaming, blood rushing to his head so fast he can barely hear himself breathe and he can’t keep looking at Steve, has to look away so that he doesn’t see the anger and the pity. _Oh god, don’t hate me_ , he thinks, _please don’t, please, pleaseplease_ –

“I love you too.”

_What?_

Tony opens his eyes– when the hell did he close them?– and even though he can barely breathe, he still summons up the courage to look back up at Steve through his eyelashes.

“What?” he has to ask again, and the word comes out low and quiet.

“I said… I love you.” Steve steps closer again, and his eyes are a sky Tony wants to spend the rest of his life living in.

“Don’t…” Tony trails off, shaking his head, because he doesn’t know what he wants to say. _I don’t believe you, don’t fucking pity me, don’t lie, don’t hate me_.

_Don’t leave._

“I love you,” Steve says, taking one of Tony’s hands in his, and when he brushes his thumb along Tony’s knuckles, it burns in the best way. “No lies, no games. You ran out on me before I could even move.”

“Umm,” is all Tony can say because Steve is still so damn close and he smells like apple pie and clean laundry, and a little like the engine oil that pervades Tony’s workshop.

He smells like _home_. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Steve asks, and he sounds so hopeful that Tony’s heart starts beating even faster.

“Yeah,” he says, and then Steve’s sweet smile is the last thing he sees before soft, warm lips are pressed against his own. He’s so stunned by it that he doesn’t move for a second or two, but then Steve lets out a noise not unlike a whimper and Tony just _loses it_. He takes Steve’s face in his hand and kisses back, slowly and more gently than he’d ever expected any of their first kisses to be– and he’s imagined so many, he’s lost count.

But Steve pulls away all too soon, and Tony has to stop himself from chasing those lips, because there are bigger things to deal with right now.

“Sorry for, uh, springing this on you,” he finally says, voice rough and raspy, “I don’t even know why I even did that without thinking, it was weird– well, not weird for me, since I was the one to just fucking plant it on you, but, y’know, I’d totally get it if it made you uncomfortable, again, sorry–”

“I’m not.”

“Why?” It slips out of Tony’s mouth before he can stop it.

Steve chuckles, and rubs his nose against Tony’s in an eskimo kiss. “I just told you, Shellhead.”

“Because you… love me?” Tony asks, his breath catching on that one word.

“Because I love you,” Steve nods, and pulls Tony into his arms again.


	139. The one where... Tony goes through some awful BS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Imagine that HYDRA or Red Skull is back and after Steve and Tony and Steve are at some kind of staged mission to capture them. At some point they are supossed to act like Steve got hit and died. So they get to it and Steve 'dies' in Tony's arms, but Tony gets a little bit too emotional and distressed, becuase he starts to think how that would be if it was true and he never told Steve how he felt about him. So Tony just kinda curls around Steve and he can't stop crying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of death?? 
> 
> (But don't worry, guys-- it's me. Would I ever do anything like this for real????? :P)

Tony knows there’s no use arguing.

Steve’s voice never wavers as he details out the plan with the team, blue eyes as serious and steady as he’s ever been.

It’s so clear that none of them like it– Natasha’s mouth is a thin line that only gets grimmer the more Steve says, and Barnes clenches his fists so hard, Tony almost swears he can hear the metal grinding– but they all know it’s the only way to do it.

Steve Rogers has to die.

———-

He’s hiding, there’s no mistaking it.

He’d gone down to the workshop as soon as they’d been dismissed, ignoring every knowing eye aimed his way, ignoring the determination in Steve’s voice as he’d called Tony’s name. And now, hours later, the heavy knot in Tony’s throat still won’t go away, and he’s finally stopped pretending his hands aren’t shaking.

“Fuck,” he sighs, then looks up for the fifth time. “Jay, status on SafeHouse seven-four-one-eight.”

 _Clear and ready, Sir_ , JARVIS replies. 

“Is that the one in Trenton?” says a voice from behind, and Tony tenses immediately.

“Yep,” he says, picking up a wrench from the table just so his hands _stop fucking shaking_. “Off the radar in every way, curtesy of yours truly.”

“Tony.”

“Cap.”

“I know you don’t like the plan–”

Tony laughs bitterly. “That’s a fucking understatement.”

“But it’s… you know it’s the best one.”

“If you say so. There something you need?”

Steve sighs, and moves closer. “I just… Can you look at me?”

The words are soft and warm along Tony’s back, and he’s helpless to deny Steve anything, even now. He’s so gone for him, it’s pathetic.

“You were saying?” He asks, turning to meet Steve’s gaze for only a second before looking away. 

“I feel like you’re hiding,” Steve finally says. “I get that you’re probably angry–”

“Can I just ask, ‘cause I’m wondering: who’s idea was it to have you die in my arms?” The last words come out ragged, as weak and as broken as Tony feels right now. He knows the answer already-- he just wants to hear it out loud.

“Mine.”

“Right.” 

“You know it won’t be real, right?

Tony breaks. “You think that fucking matters to me?” He rasps, slamming the wrench on the table. “You think _pretending_ to watch you die right in front of me makes it easier?”

“Tony–”

“You should _really_ go,” Tony gives him a smile, and they both know there isn’t an ounce of genuine happiness in it. “Go get ready– big day tomorrow.”

————

When the Avengers alarm rings during lunch the next day, the team is up and running in minutes. But every single one of them spots the suitcases by the elevator, and the short flight out to Queens is a tense one.

“You guys know the drill.” It’s Natasha who speaks, because Tony hasn’t spoken a word the whole time, and Steve won’t do anything else besides stare at him. 

“Cap’s got the injection,” Clint says quietly. “Remember: make it quick, and make it look real. See you in two weeks, Rogers.”

Steve just nods, and then Tony holds his breath when he steps closer.

“Tony–”

“I know,” Tony says, and the words taste like ash as they leave his mouth. “Time to put your game face on,” he turns to everyone else, and then jumps out the Quinjet.

Everything becomes a blur after that. 

The alien-robot hybrids are as bad as everything they’ve been facing since HYDRA’s return. They run quick and hit hard, and Tony lets loose on them with a rage that he’s rarely ever felt. Rage at the damage that’s been done to his city, and the damage they’re going to force his team to go through. He feels a sick relief every time he blasts one, and relishes every moment after.

But then it happens. 

He’s just evaded a crowd of them when Barnes’ voice comes in, high and clear and filled with a pain Tony knows he doesn’t have to fake.

“ _Cap! Avengers, Cap is down– I repeat: Cap is down!_ ”

There’s chaos and heat and screams all around him, but it feels like only seconds later that he’s sitting on the corner of a crumbling street– every part of his body encased in his suit except for his head– with Steve lying halfway in his arms, eyes wide and glassy as they meet Tony’s. There’s a dark red wound in his abdomen, and Tony just covers it with his hand.

“It’s okay,” Steve nods, but the words sound ragged and broken. “The serum… the serum’ll take care of– of th' wound. Sorry, I’m s-sorry, Tony–”

“Shut up,” Tony hisses, and buries his head in Steve’s neck to muffle the sob that breaks free. _It’s not real_. “Shut up! Fuck, I don’t– shit… It’s not real, remember?”

“I know, I–” Steve gasps, “I just, I know h-how… how much you hate th-this. A-and I– _oh_.”

“What?” Tony pulls back to look at him.

Steve’s eyes are a little more empty. “It’s cold… I'm– I'm cold.”

“It’s the injection,” Tony mumbles into the blond’s jaw. It’s still warm, and he presses his lips to it before he can stop himself.

“I still don’t… like… the cold.” Every time Steve blinks, it takes him longer to open them again, and the sudden panic that seizes Tony chills him to the bone. It’s not real, he knows it. None of it is real.

Except it is. 

Because Steve’s breath is leaving him, his heart’s slowing down, and Tony can’t do anything except watch the man he loves grow colder and paler.

“See you on the other side,” he whispers, and Steve’s breath hitches as he huffs out a laugh.

“Y’know, I think…. If I ev-ever d-die, I think… I’d like… to… go out j-just like this.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Tony gasps, and pulls him even closer. “Shut up, _shut the fuck up, Steve_.”

There’s no response this time.

And when Tony holds his breath, he doesn’t hear Steve’s.

————

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, barely listening to the sounds of his team as they finish the battle, the sounds of SHIELD personnel as they dispatch a recovery vehicle for them. 

Tony doesn’t want to hear any of it.

He doesn’t want to hear anything except Steve’s voice. He lays a hand on the blond’s chest– when did he take off the gauntlet?– and even though he knows there’s a heartbeat beneath, he can’t feel it.

It might as well not be there at all.

 _Tony_.

Someone’s saying his name. But it’s not who Tony wants it to be.

“Tony.”

He has to force his eyes to leave Steve’s body, and brings them up slowly, higher and higher until he meets bright green ones.

“Tony,” Natasha says calmly. How can she be so calm, when Steve’s– “You need to let them take him.”

“I… I can’t–”

“Tony–”

He shakes his head. “What if he’s…what if–” _What if I never see him again?_

“Look at me,” she says, and that’s when Tony realizes he’s looking back down at Steve again. “Remember yesterday,” she continues, and even though they’re whispered, Tony hears the words clear as day. “ _помню план._ ”

He breaths once, twice, and then nods, but in the end, she has to pry his hands open so they can take Steve away.

——–-—

Tony’s the first one back at HQ, and he barely makes it through the debrief room doors before he spots Fury.

“Where is he?” he asks, shaking his head when Fury opens his mouth. “Save it. I don’t care if he’s still–” he can’t say it… “if he’s not awake.”

“Med-bay four.”

Tony doesn’t even thank him as he leaves. He has to stop himself twice to breathe before he reaches the room they have Steve in, but then he sees him.

And everything else fades away. 

He ignores the lone nurse taking vitals, and when she leaves, he doesn’t hesitate to climb on the bed and lay down beside Steve, timing his breathing to the soft rise and fall of Steve’s chest.

He stays that way for what feels like hours, until he hears a soft hitch of breath, and then he looks up and oh god… there he is, alive and well, eyes big and blue and staring straight at him.

“Am I in heaven?” Steve mumbles, one corner of his lips raised in a faint smirk.

Tony’s laugh is weak and wet. “I’m here, so definitely not.” 

Steve hums. “If you’re here, it must be.”

“Okay, wow. Settle down, Casanova,” Tony says, “it’s just us here.”

“Are you okay?”

The questions hits Tony like a slap in the face, and even the relief he feels is quickly drowned out by anger. “I’m so fucking pissed at you,” he hisses.

“I’m sorry–”

“I know you are. You kept saying that while you... And maybe it _was_ the best plan, but I…” Tony looks up at the ceiling, and swallows to keep his voice steady. “I hate that we had to do this. I hate that I had to be the one to hold you. I hate… I fucking hate that I’m gonna have nightmares about this-–”

“Tony–”

“– and y’know what? I’m laying it all out right now, because I just had to watch you die and I know it wasn’t real but it fucking _felt_ real. And if you don’t know by now… if you don’t know that I can’t think of _anything_ worse than fucking losing you, then you’re an idiot–”

“My nightmares used to be about going down in the ice.”

Tony blinks. “What?”

“I used to dream about driving the plane into the ocean, about seeing Bucky fall, over and over again. And it’d keep me up at night, every time. But now… Now I dream about you.”

“What?” he breathes again.

“I dream about losing you. I dream about you being a self-sacrificing idiot, and taking a bullet for someone; I dream about you flying into that damn portal and never coming back. Sometimes I dream about having to live in a world without you next to me… and I wake up sobbing,” Steve rasps. “I can never go back to sleep after those dreams.

“But I also dream about holding your hand, about kissing you until neither of us can breathe.”

“Steve–” Tony whispers, but Steve brings a finger to his lips, and keeps going. 

“I dream about laying you down on my bed and running my mouth, my hands, all over your body until you’re moaning and screaming my name. I dream about taking you on date after date. I dream about doing everything with you–”

Tony kisses him. 

It’s only a short press of lips, softer and more chaste than any kiss Tony’s ever imagined his first kiss with Steve would be. But it’s absolute _perfection_.

“Ditto,” he whispers against Steve’s lips. “Ditto to everything-- all of it.”

“Will you wait for me?”

“ _Oh my god_ , pipe down, you meatball. You’re not going off to war, and I’m not your sweetheart.”

“Not yet,” Steve smiles, and Tony can’t help leaning in to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "помню план": "Remember the plan."


	140. The one where... the Avengers get a glimpse into Tony's past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "The avengers find videos that end up being Tony's home videos from when he was young and in one of them it's young Tony playing with a cap toy or just having fun and then Howard yells at him."
> 
> (ALRIGHT, GUYS. This is the last update I have... at least until I write some more, so don't worry. This ain't the end of this baby. Thank you guys so much for all the hits and kudos and comments. I appreciate them more than you will ever know. :'D)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: presumably drunk!Howard screaming at a baby Tony :'(

When Tony wanders into the kitchen on a quiet, Sunday morning, half awake and running a hand through his tousled, greasy hair, the first thing he sees is Clint’s bright, slightly manic grin. Normally, he would think nothing of it, ignoring him in favor of going through his daily routine; but this time, the sight stops him short before he even reaches the coffee counter. There’s a gleam in the archers’s eye that’s just on the wrong side of normal.

“Um,” he says, the sound trailing off into a yawn.

Barton’s smile just gets bigger. “Guess what I found down in the basements last night?”

“Not your sanity, I’m guessing. The not blinking thing’s kind of creepin’ me out right now.”

“Okay,” Clint shrugs, “but guess what I found down in the basements last night.”

“How did you even–” Tony starts, then shakes his head at the unimpressed look he gets in return. “Never mind. I give up. What’d you find?”

“Baby videos!” Clint screeches, holding up a handful of VHS tapes and waving them in front of him. “ _Your_ baby videos, to be exact.”

Tony freezes, eyes zeroing in on each of them. The labels are yellowed and dusty, but even from where he stands, he can just barely make out the curly, elegant hand of Jarvis’ writing. “That–” he clears his throat, glancing quickly at Clint’s face before looking away. “Those are–”

“Absolutely necessary to watch.”

“Don’t know why,” Tony says, “it’s just me.”

“Put a sock in it, Stark. Since when do you say no to seeing you on screen? There’s no way we’re not putting these on.”

“I’ll pay you to hand ‘em over.”

Clint looks amused and offended all at once. “I’d rather watch ‘em. And you squirming the whole time.”

Tony knows he could end it all, if he really wanted to. But underneath all of Clint’s jokes, there’s genuine curiosity and interest that Tony knows is born from all those years of knowing each other and living with each other, and fighting against the world with nothing but sheer will and trust in each other’s abilities. It’s more than a little touching, Tony can admit somewhere in his head, and, well… If it’s on tape, it can’t be that bad, can it?

“Don’t bet on it, beak face,” he finally says. “I’ve seen a lot worse of myself without even bating an eyelash.”

“We’ll see,” Clint waggles his eyebrows, laughing when Tony just turns to start his coffee.

“See what?” a voice calls out from down the hall, and seconds later, Tony’s heart skips a beat when Steve walks in, arms lifted high over his head as he stretches languorously. There’s a sliver of soft, tan skin peeking out from under his white tee, and Tony feels that deep, familiar pang of longing burn hotter in his chest.

“Something _awesome_ ,” Clint says, but when Tony looks over his shoulder at him, the archer’s eyes are fixed on him, knowing and smug and utterly unbearable.

“That so?”

“Yep,” Clint pops the ‘p’, and gets up from his stool. “Gotta go round up the gang, meet us in the living room in five. We’re all getting a blast from the past– Tiny Tony is gonna be gold.”

“Tiny Tony?” Steve turns to Tony as soon as they’re left alone. His eyes are bright and ocean wide in the morning light, and Tony nods until he can find the words. 

“He snuck into the basements and found some old home videos, so…”

“Are you okay with us watchin’? Did he even ask? I don’t… the last thing we want is for you to feel uncomfortable. I can go catch him and tell him–”

Tony can’t help chuckling, even as his face grows hot at the concern he hears from the blond. “Hey, Cap, hey, take a breather. It’s fine, it’s all good.”

“Are you sure?” Steve looks skeptical.

“Yeah. And don’t tell me you’re not itching to see a tiny Tony Stark in all his childhood glory,” Tony teases, and Steve rolls his eyes even as he blushes prettily. 

“Sounds like you’re the one doing all the itching.”

“I was a fucking riot, Rogers. Just sit back and enjoy me.”

Steve’s flush deepens, and Tony forgets all about the fleeting brushes of remembrance he’d felt just minutes ago.

It’ll be fine.

\- - - - -

He actually manages to convince himself of that by the time the group gathers in the living room a couple of minutes later. Clint and Barnes even have giant bowl of popcorn settled between them, and Natasha’s eyes gleam in anticipation as she presses play on the video.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Tony’s breath catches in his throat, because the next thing he hears is the sound of his mother’s voice.

“ _Is– is it on? This thing’s on, right? Well, either way, I’m doing this._ ”

Tony swallows a lump in his throat, and barely manages to keep the sting in his eyes from turning into tears. Every part of his body is suddenly tense as a live wire, frozen in memories and the grief that still haunts him as strongly as it did the day he lost her.

“ _Goodness, I hope it’s working– Jarvis, the light’s supposed to be blinking, yes?_ ” There’s the sound of a scrambling hands, and then a dark lock of hair comes into view, followed by the rest of his mother’s face as she turns the camera to her, and Tony can’t hold back the low, pathetic noise he makes from the back of this throat.

She’s absolutely _beautiful_.

“ _Yes, Ma’am,_ ” comes another familiar voice out of view, calm and elegantly English. “ _At least, I believe so._ ”

Maria grins down at the camera, and the laugh she lets out a moment later is still one of the most beautiful things Tony’s ever heard, soft but high, like the jingle of bells somewhere in the distance. Her eyes are the same shade of green he remembers. “ _Well then_ ,” she says, “ _let’s go find my bambino, sí?_ ”

“Holy shit, Stark,” Barton mumbles. “Your mom was a _babe_.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Natasha hisses.

The camera leaves his mother as she turns it back around, the view a little shaky as she walks down a hall of the New York mansion. “ _Oh where, oh where has my little boy gone, oh where, oh where can he be?_ ” She sings. “ _Dove sei, angelo, hmm? Ah, there he is,_ ” she sing songs, when a faint giggle echoes around the corner. “ _Antonio, amor_ –”

There’s a blur that pops into view, and then Tony lets out a breath as the camera shakes again– a little harder this time– when said blur barrels into Maria’s legs. “ _Mama!_ ”

“ _Hi, baby,_ ” she coos, as she presumably crouches down to bring baby Tony further into view. “ _What’ve you got there, huh?_ ”

Tony sees his younger self grin, all dimpled cheeks as he all but shoves a familiar blue action figure into the camera lens. “ _Cap’n ‘Merica! Mama, Cap’n ‘Merica!_ ”

“That’s right, honey. Is he helping you fight the bad guys?”

Baby Tony shakes his head. “ _‘M helpin’_ him, _Mama._ ”

“ _But you can be a hero too, bambino,_ ” Maria says softly, hand reaching out to tousle her son’s hair. “ _You’re every bit as good as Captain America._ ”

On screen, little Tony nods distractedly, more focused on waving his toy around like an airplane, complete with flying noises.

“Awwwww,” Sam coos from somewhere close by, voice warbled from a mouthful of popcorn. “You’re adorable, man.”

Tony manages to pull his eyes away from the TV, and makes sure the smile on his face is one of his practiced ones. “No surprise there.”

“ _Can I join you, then?_ ” Maria’s voice cuts in before anyone can say anything else, and then moves the camera to capture both of them as she kisses little Tony’s head when he nods. “ _Grazie, tesoro_.”

“ _Prego, Mama_ ,” little Tony giggles. “ _Y’can be a Howling Commando!_ ”

His mother’s grin lights up her face. “ _I’ll take that, baby._ ”

Tony feels his own lips quirk up into a soft smile, and the feeling of Steve’s hand when it comes to rest on his shoulder makes the tendril of warmth in his chest bloom a little more.

Only to be doused by the rough, slurred voice that fills the living room a second later. 

“ _What is that?_ ”

There’s a sharp, low sigh that very obviously leaves Maria’s lips, but the camera doesn’t leave baby Tony as she speaks next. “ _Howard–_ ”

“Shit,” someone in the room mumbles, but Tony can barely register anything beyond the sudden chill in his bones.

“ _Is that from the private collection?_ ” Howard asks.

“ _You’re the only one with a key, darling, you know that._ ”

“ _Then where the hell did he get it?_ ”

“ _I bought it for him, Sir,_ ” comes the faint, distant reply from Jarvis, and little Tony holds up the doll as the sound of footsteps grows louder. 

“ _Cap’n ‘Merica_ –”

“ _Give me the toy_.”

The camera’s view turns and stays on a blank space of the wall, and Tony only just hears Steve speak lowly. “Maybe we should just–”

“ _Boy, I said give it to me!_ ”

“ _Howard–_ ”

“ _But I wanna play–_ ”

“ _Anthony Edward Stark, give me the damn toy!_ ” Howard screams, and the screen trembles just as a whimper is heard.

“ _Goddamnit, Howard_ ,” Maria snaps again, dropping the camera so that it only catches her feet as she walks away with Tony, and Howard’s stumbling gait as he tries to follow her.

“ _Better not find him with somethin’ like this again, Maria!_ ” He yells. Little Tony’s cries grow fainter with every step. “ _God knows he doesn’t deserve any part of Steve Rogers_ –”

Tony lurches out of his seat with a silent gasp, almost tripping over his teammates’ feet as he staggers towards the hallway leading to the elevators. Through the rush of blood in his ears, he hears someone call his name, but it just serves to spur him faster. 

“Shit, shit, _shit_ ,” he croaks, hands clenched at his side to keep them from brushing the tears in his eyes. He won’t let them fall. 

He won’t.

_Stark men don’t cry._

\- - - - -

“You have her smile.”

In the silence of the workshop, Steve’s soft voice easily carries across the space between them, but Tony doesn’t look away from the floating numbers in front of him. “Do I?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer.

Everyone always used to tell him he did, especially after her death.

“Yeah,” Steve replies. “Right down to the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh.”

“Better than the sneer Howard always gave me, right?” Tony says, before he can stop himself, and then curses when he hears Steve get closer.

“Tony–”

“What can I do for you, Cap?”

“Can you… will you look at me? Please?”

Tony finally gathers his courage and turns, meeting Steve’s gaze with a sigh. “What.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Wasn’t your idea to…” he waves his hand around, “y’know. It’s not like I fucking remember it anyway.”

Steve’s jaw hardens. “That doesn’t–” he makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. “That just makes it worse, Jesus…”

“Takin’ the Lord’s name in vain, Cap? You must really be pissed–”

“I’m _furious_.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Tony shakes his head. “Past is in the past, big guy.”

Steve takes another step closer, and this one brings him right beside Tony. “Do you still believe him?”

“Believe who?” Tony asks.

“Howard. When he said you don’t…” Steve visibly swallows, and takes a deep breath. “When he said…”

“That I don’t deserve any part of you,” Tony says it, almost gritting his teeth at how bitter the words taste. “What did _he_ know?

“ _Do you believe it?_ ”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, because it’s _bullshit_!” Steve growls.

“Steve–” Tony starts, but the blond shakes his head, shoulders slumping as he sighs.

“It’s… God, Tony, he couldn’t be more wrong.”

“He never stopped looking, y’know,” Tony says. “I don’t think he ever cared about anything half as much as he cared about finding you.”

“I’m glad he didn’t find me,” Steve replies. “Because Howard Stark might’ve helped make me, but that’s nothing compared to what his son’s done.”

Tony scoffs. “Come on, Cap–”

“And if he were here now,” Steve continues, “ I’d tell him that you’re my best friend, and the best part of my day. I’d tell him that not a day goes by where I don’t thank God for having you in my life, and that there are times– more than I could ever count– when I think _I_ don’t deserve _you_. I’d tell him that I would sleep another hundred years, a thousand, as long as you were on the other side of ‘em.”

“Steve…”

“I’d tell him that you gave me a _home_ ,” Steve’s voice breaks on the last word, as soft as the hand that gently takes Tony’s. “So as far as I’m concerned, Tony Stark is so much more deserving than his father could ever be. Then I’d tell him he could shove all his bullshit right up his ass.”

Tony lets out a loud, uncontrollable giggle, and leans forward to bury his head in Steve’s shoulder when it almost turns into a sob. “It’d be f-faster to just punch him, y’know.”

“Oh, I’d definitely sneak one or two of those in there, too,” Steve laughs, wrapping his arms around Tony without hesitation.

“Always spoiling for a fight, aren’t you, Cap?”

“For you? You bet I am.”

Tony just tightens his own arms around Steve’s waist, and feels Steve smile into his hair.


	141. The one where... Natasha sees all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE DRABBLE = SURPRISE UPDATE!
> 
> This was inspired by a picture posted on the "Bringing Food to the Lab" Stony community on imzy, in Monday's donate-a-prompt thread (idk how to link lmao, but here's the url: https://images.imzy.com/prod/inline/bringing-food-to-lab-stony-monday-donate-prompt-izxunfya-comment-1488805976834.png). 
> 
> It's a tweet that says: "*Man walks into bar covered in kiss marks* haha yeah well you should see the other guy". ;)
> 
> ENJOY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

It’s rare for them to both be late.

Natasha can count, on one hand, the times Steve and Tony have been the last to arrive to a debrief. She doubts the others make anything of it, considering the tiny crowd gathered around Clint and James as they arm wrestle across the table.

“Rematch!”

“I don’t think so, Barnes.”

“You cheated!”

“Jealous?”

“Let me use my other arm!”

“Fuck no,” Clint snorts. “I’d like both my arms unbroken, thanks.”

“Asshole.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, and is just about to pull out her phone and call Steve, when she sees Tony swagger into the room out of the corner of her eye.

“Sorry for the wait, kiddies– actually, scratch that. I’m not. I had a… thing,” he waves his hand around, “that went over.”

“And by ‘thing’, you mean ‘make out session with a tentacle man’?” Rhodey asks with a grin, nodding his head at the scatter of telltale bruises marking Tony’s neck, and the room erupts into a chorus of snickers and whistles.

“Kinky, honey bear. But no,” Tony smirks as he flops down on his chair and shamelessly turns his head this way and that, flaunting the marks sucked into his neck with obvious enthusiasm. He looks so thoroughly, filthily satisfied, Natasha almost feels like blushing. “You should see the other guy, though. I _really_ –“

“ _Aaaaaand_ we stop there,” Bruce holds up a hand. “Please.”

Tony pouts at him. “Killjoy,” he grumbles, but thankfully says no more.

“Oh man…” Sam mutters, sharing a knowing smile with Clint. “Wait till Cap sees this.”

“Sees what?” All heads turn to the door as Steve walks inside, perfectly uniformed and composed, and every inch their Captain.

Well, except for the fading flush in his cheeks and the unruly tousle of hair on the back of his head. Natasha’s fingers itch to smooth it back into place.

“Hey, Cap,” Tony grins again, “I know you’re twenty-six going on ninety, but you don’t have to walk around like it. We’ve only been waiting _forever_ –”

“Pot, Kettle,” Rhodey points out.

Steve rolls his eyes fondly as he takes a seat primly beside Tony. “I know for a fact you were late too, Stark.”

“Worth it. What’s your excuse?”

“I, uh, had a training session that got away from me.”

The amusement in Tony’s eyes is too obvious to miss, but Natasha doesn’t doubt her team somehow manages to. “Some fresh faced lackey being difficult?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Steve replies. “Things got a little… hard for a while.”

“Don’t tell me the great Captain America ended up on his back.”

“It happens. But you can bet I gave as good as I got.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Tony says, and god, Natasha can’t possibly be the only one who notices the way the words come out rough and low.

“Y'know, Stevie, it’s just a debrief,” James says a second later, casual as ever, and Natasha sighs in resignation at giving her team too much credit. “You didn’t have to go all out with the uniform.”

"Yes I did,” Steve replies, and then he sends Stark a lightning quick glance as he tugs at the collar of the uniform, cheeks growing just a little bit pinker and–

“Oh shit.” The words are out before Natasha can smother them, and it’s only the fact that these people around her are the only ones she trusts her life to, that keeps her from running out the room because _how has no one realized what’s going on?_ How is she just seeing it?

“Natasha?” Bruce asks softly, as concerned as the concerned looks Steve and Tony turn her way. “You okay?”

"I… forgot to turn the oven off back home,” she says slowly, thankfully managing to avoid shifting in her seat as she ignores Clint and James’ confused stares, and meets Tony’s eyes intently. "My brownies…”

“I could let JARVIS know?…” Tony says, and Natasha’s almost certain she’s the only one that takes his wide-eyed look for the pleading it is, the others distracted and unfocused around her.

 _You don’t have to worry_ , she wants to tell him– tell both of them. _I’m good at keeping secrets_. “Thanks,” she says instead. “Hope you don’t think that means you’re getting any, though.”

“I already am, Red,” Tony replies around a sated smirk as he caresses a particularly deep mark with a finger. “Pretty damn often, in fact–”

“A-alright! I think we’ve, uh, wasted enough time, yeah?” Steve calls out, shuffling the papers in front of him as he squares his shoulders and straightens his spine in a way that still doesn’t manage to draw Natasha’s attention from the fact that he can’t stop his eyes from straying over to Tony’s neck every once in a while.

“Spoilsport.” 

“ _Tony_.”

“Fine, I’ll behave,” Tony puts a hand over his heart, and then, with a lewd bite of his lip– “ _for now_ …”

Natasha gives up on holding back her smile, and as the debrief finally begins, she finally welcomes the rare, warm tendrils of surprised happiness that settle in her chest.


	142. The one where... Steve puts a ring on it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a drabble for a friend on tumblr, and also in celebration of the SteveTony 10th Anniversary celebration! :D 
> 
> And since no celebration is complete without a proposal...
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NONE.

“Let’s never do that again.”

In the quiet, steam-filled bathroom, Steve’s voice creates only the thinnest of echoes, but it still has Tony grinning at him over his shoulder, running an appreciative gaze over the miles of wet, golden skin he’s treated to a second later. “First time you’ve ever complained about showering with me, honey buns… I’m hurt.”

“I’m talkin’ about the paintball– aw jeez,” Steve rolls his eyes, and runs a finger behind his ears, sighing when drops of bright orange paint come clinging to it. “How’d that get back there?”

“Might’ve been Romanoff’s fault.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Oh, stop pouting,” Tony chuckles, pushing a towel into Steve’s hands as he starts toweling his own hair into wild, wet tufts. “You’re the one always going on about boosting team morale and all that jazz.”

Steve smiles ruefully as he ties his towel around him without bothering to dry his gleaming skin. “I was thinkin’ something more like—”

“Trust fall exercises?” Tony asks, and yelps when Steve whacks his arm as they make their way into their bedroom. They part ways to go to their respective dressers, and if Tony holds off on pulling out his clothes to stare at Steve through the mirror– he’s still sated from their long, luxurious bout in their shower, but when Steve lets the ridiculously small towel fall from his hips, the flash of want that runs down Tony’s spine is no less strong– he doesn’t think anyone could ever blame him.

“Nothin’ wrong with ‘em, y’know,” Steve replies.

“Sure there isn’t, babe.”

Blue eyes, bright with amusement and happiness, meet his through the mirror. “Admit it– you just wanted a reason to shoot Clint.”

“It was _awesome_ ,” Tony laughs, finally digging through a drawer for his pajama pants. “And I didn’t hear you complaining a single minute of it.”

“Got some catchin’ up to do, then. This paint was a bitch to scrub off.”

“Must’ve not been scrubbing right, sweets.”

“I was kinda busy scrubbing somethin’ else,” Steve mutters, grinning down at his now open drawer.

“Is that what we’re calling it now, Rogers? So romantic,” Tony quips, and he’s so distracted by rifling through the messy clothes for his Captain America shirt that he doesn’t notice Steve walking across the room towards him until he feels that warm, familiar chest press into his back. “Well, hello there,” he drawls, looking up to meet Steve’s eyes in their reflection.

“I had fun,” Steve mumbles into Tony’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist until he has both of Tony’s hands between his own.

“Of course you did, darling,” Tony laughs. “All my ideas are good.”

“What about that time in Queens–”

“Ah, no no no, stop! I don’t know what you’re talking about– Queens? Who’s Queens, huh? What’s– what’s that?” he rambles in between quiet laughter, and doesn’t quite manage to hold back the shiver at the feel of Steve’s own chuckles on his neck, at the vibrations along his spine.

“Zip it, mister.”

“Make me,” he says, and Steve does, turning him around until their mouths meet in a slow, languid kiss. Tony loses himself in every swipe of Steve’s lips against his own with an ease that he knows will never fade, and presses his chest as far into Steve’s as it will go, their hands still together between them.

Which is probably why it takes so long to realize that Steve’s fingers are moving against his own– slowly, carefully, but with purpose– and before he can pull away to look down, he feels a cool, unmistakably metal band slide into his finger.

His _ring_ finger.

This time, he does pull away with a shuddering gasp that feels like it’s been ripped out his chest. “Wh–”

“Marry me,” Steve whispers against his lips, and the words run down Tony’s chest, into his body, his lungs, like the first breath of life.

“Steve–”

“I can’t wait anymore, Tony, I… I want this– you, me, here at home at the end of the day, _everyday_ – I want it forever. I want _you_.” Steve’s eyes are wide and wet with emotion, and Tony feels like he could die from the love he sees burning in their depths. “God, I’m… look, you deserve so much better than this, than me asking you while we’re half naked after a paintball game, but I swear to God, this ring’s been burnin’ a hole in my drawer and I think if I wait any longer I might lose my mind, baby.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony breathes, and Steve lets out a shaky, breathy laugh that somehow seems to fill the room.

“Marry me, Tony?”

“ _Yes_ ,” is all he can think, all he can say, softly and gently against Steve’s smiling lips, and when he leans back in to seal the deal with another kiss, the feeling of their hands intertwined fills his chest with pure, incandescent _peace_.


	143. The one where... it's a miracle Steve and Tony ever get anything done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prompt. Just good ol' slice of life schmoop! :D
> 
> Warnings: NONE.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like... _that_ ,” Tony waves his hand in the direction of Steve’s face, and feels his lips quirk up into a grin to match the one currently being aimed his way.

“I’m not lookin’ at ya any way, mister Stark,” Steve replies, that delicious Brooklyn drawl carrying across the room until Tony can all but feel it running down his spine like a gentle kiss.

“Liar,” he chides, rolling his eyes as he sets down the wrench he’d been working with on the cluttered table before him.

“What, a fella can’t look at his sweetheart whenever he wants, or does he need permission now?” Steve continues, blue eyes bright with humor and so much genuine admiration, Tony’s cheeks begin to burn in an all too familiar blush. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, “I’m gonna throw somethin’ at you.”

A golden eyebrow lifts in interest. “Your clothes?”

“Wh-- shut up!” Tony laughs, the warmth in his face now spreading down his neck and under the collar of his messy, threadbare shirt. “And _don’t look at me like that!_ ”

“I can’t help it,” Steve says simply, shrugging those indecently broad shoulders into the corner of Tony’s worn out couch. He’s stretched out all the way from end to end, six plus feet of absolute perfection, and when Tony’s heart gives a pathetically happy little pang, he barely manages to trample the urge to march over and climb on top of all those comfortingly familiar muscles.

“Find a way,” is all he says.

“ _Sweetheart..._ ”

“You’re killing me, Rogers.”

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

Steve shakes his head, grin softening into Tony’s favorite smile. “No, I’m not. You’re... god, you’re gorgeous.”

“Steve...”

“I know I don’t say it much--”

“You don’t have to--”

“--but it’s true,” Steve ducks his head shyly as he fiddles with a corner of his sketchbook cover, then looks back up to meet Tony’s eyes again through those unfairly long eyelashes. “I get tongue-tied just lookin’ at ya sometimes.”

“Back atcha, stud,” Tony winks, even with his face is still warm all over, and he lets out a quiet, shaky breath when Steve’s cheeks do the same moments later.

“Tony?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

 _Oh! Fuck it_ , Tony’s head sighs, and he pushes himself away from the table, walks over to Steve’s side, and plops down on his lap. “Love you too, baby,” he leans down to whisper against Steve’s lips, before pressing their mouths together in a brief, chaste kiss. “Now stop looking at me like that, will you?”

“Depends,” Steve chuckles into Tony’s chin when they both pull away. “What’s in it for me?”

“If you can give me an hour,” Tony says slowly, holding back a smile at the way Steve’s breath hitches when Tony wriggles on top of him. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“A whole _hour_?” is the strangled reply.

“Mmhmm,” Tony nods, and relishes the feel of Steve’s lips as they caress his jaw. “Think you can handle it, Cap? Or is it too... _hard_ for you?”

“I should throw ya over my shoulder, goddamn you,” Steve growls, words as rough as the hands holding cradling Tony’s are gentle.

“Sorry, sorry,” Tony laughs, even as he knows he sounds anything but. “I’ll behave, I promise-- cross my heart.”

“Fine,” Steve sighs. “One hour, and then you’re mine.”

“Hmm, I thought I already was.”

“You are,” Steve says, soft and earnest as ever. “Always.”

“I like the sound of that,” Tony breathes out. Steve’s hands have wandered underneath his shirt, and the whisper soft touch of his fingers along Tony’s spine is maddening.

“Good. ‘Cause I mean it.”

“But I was serious about that hour, big guy-- come on, hands where I can see them!”

“The things I do for you...” Steve mutters, and the dark gleam of anticipation in his eyes is almost enough to crumble Tony’s resolve.

“Just sixty minutes, darling.”

“You can bet on that, Stark. The second that hour’s up...”

“Better let me go, then,” Tony taps Steve’s hand, and climbs off him with another wink. “And don’t look at me like that!”

"Fifty-nine minutes...”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me anyway.”

“Yeah,” Tony mutters. “I do.”


	144. The one where... it’s time for new beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New drabble inspired by SM:HC! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having seen sm:hc last week, I’m dying for an AU where Steve and the team are with Tony, and they’re all happy together because THAT’S LITERALLY ALL I EVER WANT!
> 
> Now, this is set BEFORE a lot of the action happens in the movie, so it’s not terribly spoiler-y, although it was inspired by the one, big Stark related storyline happening when the movie takes place (if you haven’t seen the movie, and don’t mind knowing ONE spoiler, read on. Also, I’ve put the spoiler at the end in case y’all wanna peek before you read).

"Alright... that's the last of 'em."

The sound of Steve’s voice-- echoing throughout the room in a way he can’t ever remember it doing-- has Tony looking away from the glass walls showing the dark, glowing New York Skyline, and down at the half filled tumbler in his hand.

"Still can't believe you insisted on doing this yourself, Cap,” he says, lips quirked up into that smile he can never help but make when Steve’s involved. “I can't believe you managed to drag me into this, too-- Tony Stark doesn’t pack, honey bunch.”

“He does when his Captain asks him to,” Steve replies, suddenly sounding a lot closer than he had seconds before, and a moment later, Tony lets out a happy sigh when warm, familiar arms are wrapped around his waist from behind.

“God, I hate it when you fight dirty,” he grumbles, pulling away from Steve’s hold to set his tumbler down on the empty counter before stepping back into the blond’s space, this time face to face. “We could’ve been all tucked in and sprawled out on our insanely expensive, custom made California king by now..."

He waggles his eyebrows in that exaggerated manner he knows will always get Steve laughing, and sure enough, he gets to revel in the feel of warm breath brushing his cheeks like a kiss.

“If I didn’t know you better, mister, I’d believe you,” Steve chuckles for a few seconds more, before his eyes soften with earnestness. “But we know there’s more important things still keepin’ us here.”

Tony just nods, and fiddles with the collar of Steve’s white tee.

“How is he?”

“Ridiculously eager, terrifyingly enthusiastic. Reminds me of you, actually.”

Steve’s grin is a wide, pleased, gorgeous thing. “Not such a bad thing, is it?” he asks, tightening his arms to bring them even closer together.

“Please! You were a menace back then, and you’re a fucking menace now,” Tony grins. “The two of you’ll have me going gray in months, Christ...”

“I like you with a little gray,” Steve reaches up to trace Tony’s temples with two fingers, his touch as soft as the gleam in his eyes is fond. 

“You damn well better.”

“...You’re doing so well with him, y’know.”

Tony feels his cheeks flush from the sudden praise. “You mean Happy’s doing so well with Peter.”

“Happy too, yes,” Steve nods. “But everything else-- the things they don’t see, the things _I_ see...”

“Steve--”

“I’m proud of you, baby.”

Tony curls his face into Steve’s neck as he blinks away the burning behind his eyes.

“Is this payback for making you carry all the boxes down to the garage?” he asks, voice more rough than he’d like, and smiles a shaky grin when Steve’s shoulders shake again with laughter.

“It was an insane amount of boxes, Tony.”

“Not like you couldn’t handle it, big guy-- you’re the muscle man out of the two.”

“Glad I could be of use.”

“More than you know,” Tony whispers, low enough that it doesn’t break the silence that settles around them once more.

\- - - - -

“You’re... okay with this, right?”

Bundled up against Steve’s chest with a worn, well-used blanket settled around them as they sit on the balcony of what will soon be their former bedroom, it’s easy to finally let out the words he’s been wanting to for days.

“Hmm?” 

“I-- I know we talked about it,” Tony continues, “but I’m... this isn’t--” he turns his head to press his cheek against Steve’s pectoral. “We’re not moving just ‘round the corner, Rogers.”

“Obviously not. You own that block too.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m a riot.”

“And I’m being serious... for once.”

Steve uncurls his hand from Tony’s waist, and tip his chin up until their eyes meet. “Are you okay with this?” he asks.

“I asked you first,” Tony replies in lieu of an actual answer, and Steve rolls his eyes even as they gleam fondly. 

“I meant every word I said when we first talked about it; the grounds upstate... they’re perfect. It’s a good, sound plan. And it’s not like we’re never coming back, right?”

“Don’t think I could stop you from that even if I wanted to,” Tony huffs, smiling into Steve’s sweater as the blond laughs into his hair.

“The truth is... I’m looking forward to moving.”

“That’s good to know,” Tony says around a sigh.

“Are _you_?” Steve asks his, lips now pressed to Tony’s forehead, and Tony feels the last clouds of doubt leave his body like breath in a storm.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I am. But if I see you moping around the new digs anytime soon, Rogers, I swear--”

“No chance of that, Stark. Just make it worth my while every night...”

Tony’s helpless against the laughter that takes over, shoulders heaving into the safe, familiar hold around him. “ _Th--that was almost s-smooth_ ,” he manages to choke out between chuckles. “Y’know, I’m not kidding about the California king.”

“And I appreciate it, honest. Not that I particularly care how big our bed is, though, as long as you’re the only one in it with me.”

“Sweet, Winghead,” Tony smirks up at him, “but with the way you sleep, God knows I need every inch of bed money can buy.”

“I’m not _that_ bad.”

“Steve. Honey bunch. _Please_.”

“Buck never complained when we use to share a bed back in the day.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Barnes probably never had to--what were you then, four foot two?”

“Hey!” Steve yelps, poking Tony’s side hard enough to feel through the layers he’s wearing. “Don’t be mean!”

“Science can’t be mean, sunshine.”

“I wasn’t _that_ small.”

“The point-- listen,” Tony holds up a demanding finger and grins approvingly when Steve’s mouth clacks shut. “The point remains, gorgeous: I’m dealing with more Steve Rogers than anyone’s ever had to, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve mumbles glumly, but Tony’s heart gives a lurch at the bright amusement swimming in those baby blues.

“Then I rest my case.”

“Sorry I’m such a burden to have to sleep next to.”

“Oh, don’t even try that with me,” Tony says fondly, leaning up to wipe the pout off Steve’s lips with a short, sweet kiss. “There’s no one else I’d put up with this for, and you know it.”

”So romantic,” Steve sighs.

That’s my middle name, sweet cheeks.”

“If you say so, Edward.”

“Ugh, no, stop,” Tony winces.

“Stop what, Edward?”

“I mean it, Rogers.”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about, Edward.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m breaking up with you.”

Steve just pulls him further in. “A little too late for that-- you already bought the bed.“

“Keep talking, stud; see if I _do_ end up making it worth your while.”

“Does it help if I tell you I love you?” Steve whispers, the emotion in his voice sending Tony’s heart into flutters that he hopes will never get old.

“There you go, fighting dirty again,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to Steve’s again.

“Doesn’t seem like you mind much,” Steve says, after a particularly delicious swipe of his tongue.

“Not one bit, seeing as how I love you too,” Tony smiles, breathing around the warmth in his chest as Steve returns it with another one of his own. A particularly chilly burst of wind makes him shiver a second later, however, and Tony pulls away with a sigh. “By the way, you’re absolutely coming with me next time I pay Parker a visit, _capisce_?”

“Sure. I like seeing him fawning over you.”

“No, stop, he just--”

“He looks up to you,” Steve says quietly.

Tony’s laugh is rough and broken, without a single shred of humor. “Goes to show how little he knows, huh?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Steve--”

“There isn’t a better person to help him be a hero.”

“I don’t know how to, I’m not... not cut out for this, but I just...” Tony shakes his head, and just closes his eyes when Steve leans in to press their foreheads together. “I just keep-- I keep thinking, _‘don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck it up like Howard’_ , and really, it’s shouldn’t be so damn hard, but I-- I can’t screw this up, I can’t.”

“Sweetheart--”

“So yeah, I, uh, might need some help every once in a while, if you’re up for it-- not that it has to be you, I can... I can talk to Rhodey if you want, or, or Barton, they’d probably hit it off--”

“Don’t even think about it,” Steve says, and Tony feels so dizzy with relief, it’s almost pathetic. “Whenever you want, just let me know and I’m with you. Hear me? I’m with you, Tony.”

“You’re... you’re unreal,” he breathes out, the world outside Steve’s arms fading further by the second.

“Should I pinch you to prove otherwise?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Guess I’ll settle for carrying you inside for one last night in our old bed.”

Tony’s sure Steve can feel the smile that blooms on his face. “It’s the least you could do.”

“I’ll get right on that, then.”

“You’re hot when you’re sassy.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Get me inside and I’ll tell you as many times as you want.”

“Yes, sir!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER: Happy tells Peter that Tony sold Stark Tower and is moving upstate (presumably to the new Avengers facility).


	145. The one where... Tony has a little secret, and Steve has a thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I hate this."

“I hate this.”

“Gotta say, I don’t know why–”

“I look _ridiculous_ ,” Tony hisses, glaring at Rhodey over the top rim of this glasses. “Jesus Christ…”

“You don’t look bad at all, Tones.”

“Shut up.”

Rhodey laughs, a single eyebrow rising knowingly a second later. “Can’t wait till a certain someone sees you.”

“Don’t know who you’re talking about,” Tony says, even as his heart skips a beat.

“Bullshit,” Rhodey smirks. “Now come on, I’m not missing this for the world.“

Tony tries pulling away from the hold his best friend has on his wrist. “No, wai–Rhodey, fuck, _stop_.”

“Nope. You’ve been hiding down here for far too long–”

“Honey bear–”

“You know you can’t fight me on this.”

“Rhodey,” Tony grits, just as Rhodey pulls him into the elevator. “Jay, skip the common floor, take us all the way down–”

“JARVIS, don’t you dare–”

“JARVIS,” Tony says louder, “do it.”

There’s silence for a couple of seconds, and then–

“ _Sir… There is no determinate danger on the Avengers floor_.”

“Wh–”

“ _On the contrary, I believe Sir would benefit from it_.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “But–”

“You heard it,” Rhodey grins. “Grow some balls and go see your man, will ya?

” _He’s not my man_ ,“ Tony growls, but whips around to face the doors when they open, and at the faint sound of his team in conversation, he takes a step back.

Only to bump into a firm chest. “Rhodey–”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m not…” Tony shakes his head, but doesn’t pull away when Rhodey moves in front of him to put his hands on Tony’s shoulders.

“Hey, hey– what’s going on?” he asks, voice low and soothing.

“This… isn’t me,“ Tony finally admits, removing the glasses to wave them around, and _God_ , he feels ridiculous saying it because he doesn’t wanna be that person. But he can’t help it…

"You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Rhodey gapes. “The first day I met you, you were wearing these bad boys. This is the Tony I know, the Tony I grew up with.”

Tony sighs. “But they… they didn’t.”

“Well, now they will. And if they give you shit, I’ll knock every one of ‘em out, alright?”

“I’m a big boy now, Rhodey,” Tony says, feeling his face soften into a smile as he takes a deep, steadying breath. “I can take it.”

“But you won’t have to.”

\- - - - -

Of course, it would be just his luck that the whole team is in the kitchen.

Most of them– Barnes, Wilson, Clint, Natasha– are sitting on the long line of stools along the large island, with Bruce leaning against the refrigerator, and Steve…

Steve’s standing by the stove, all broad shoulders and deliciously muscled arms moving over multiple pans. He’s chuckling at something one of them’s just said, and Tony’s focused so much on the wonderful sound, that it takes him a second or two to notice the room’s gone quiet.

It’s not until Natasha hums tellingly that he turns to face them.

“Shit,” Barnes drawls-- Tony feels Rhodey tense behind him– but then… “Lookin’ sharp, Stark.”

“Don’t I always?” He drawls, sauntering further into the room with more aplomb than he feels.

“This feels momentous, man,” Clint cackles, rocking back in his seat as he grins. “Someone record this, yeah? Nat, where’s your phone?”

“No one’s doin anything until we all eat,” Steve calls out as he plates the last of the bacon sizzling on the stove.

“But, Cap–”

“Zip it. Buck, get the plates?”

Barnes gets up with a smirk. “Sure thing, Stevie. Get a good grip on that plate, though, alright?”

Steve scoffs. “Why would I do th–” he starts to ask, but then he turns, and meets Tony’s eyes.

The plate slips from his fingers.

Barnes, Sam, and Clint– and Rhodey, too, the bastard– all roar with laughter, and even Natasha lets out a tiny chuckle.

But Steve barely moves, still staring at Tony with those wide, ocean blue eyes. There’s a blush blooming high on his cheeks, and the more Tony looks at him, the farther down it moves. “ _Oh_ ,” is all he says, and God damnit, if that soft, breathy sound doesn’t make Tony want to shiver all over.

“Hiya, Cap,” he finally says, and thinks it must be a trick of the light, the way Steve’s eyes seem to turn just the slightest bit darker.

“T-Tony…”

Tony tries to keep his smile from turning giddy. “Need some help there?”

Steve blinks. “What?” He asks, only to start when Tony nods down at the mess between them. "Oh, shit– aw, _damn_ – Buck, get me some towels! Shit,“ he bends down, gingerly gathering the broken pieces of the plate into a pile. There’s bacon grease smearing on the floor and on his fingers, but he has most of it together by the time Tony bends down and picks up a wayward bacon slice.

"Here ya go,” he says, heart lurching against his chest when Steve’s eyes drop to his lips as he bites his own.

“Th-thanks.”

“Anytime, handsome.”

Steve mumbles something under his breath, just low enough that Tony can’t make out, before giving him a soft smile. “Where–where’d you, um…”

“Always had ‘em,” Tony answers. “But luckily, there are also these amazing little things called contacts.” Steve’s eyes haven’t stopped running all over his face, and Tony breathes a sigh. “They’re not that bad, are they, Cap?”

“What?” Steve breathes.

Tony pushes down the swell of embarrassment with everything he has, and stands back up. “Guess that answers that, huh,” he takes the frames off, “I’ll just– I’m gonna go call the, the um, the optometrist– buy a couple of thousand contacts–”

“Don’t you dare,” Steve says, as soft as the hand he wraps around Tony’s wrist. “I don’t– you–” he stammers, and throws a glance at their friends over his shoulder. “They look… good.”

“Yeah?” is all Tony can breathe out, heart suddenly thudding a little harder against his chest.

Steve nods, and then winces when he looks down at his greasy hands. “Oh, sorry, I’ve– your hand’s all… sorry,” he lets go of Tony’s wrist, and fumbles with the handful of porcelain and now inedible bacon as he stands back up too. His eyes keep moving to and from Tony’s glasses, pale pink blush blooming gorgeously on his cheeks, and god, he’s the most beautiful thing Tony’s ever seen.

“Don’t sweat it, Cap,” he finally says, chest warming when Steve gives him a shy, happy grin.

“Somebody owes me bacon,” Wilson mutters, and from the corner of his eye, Tony sees Barnes roll his eyes as he walks to the refrigerator.

“Give us a warnin’ next time, will ya, Stark?”

“Yeah, especially for Rogers,” Clint sniggers.

Steve’s eyes widen, bright and soft as the morning sky beyond the walls of the Tower, and he looks down at the mess in his hands. “Sorry, I just–”

“We know, Steve,” Natasha says, mirth lacing every syllable.

“Told you,” Tony hears Rhodey mutter behind him, and can’t keep his lips from quirking up as Steve obviously hears him too, cheeks growing pinker by the second.

“Any pancakes left?” he finally decides to ask, hopping up onto the last stool when the team nods, and seconds later, Steve slide a plate piled high in front of him. “Thank you,” Tony says softly, looking up at the blond over the rim of his frames.

“Anytime,” Steve replies, eyes falling to the glasses yet again, and the warmth that blooms in Tony’s chest stays with him for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and check out my tumblr at captainstarkreportingforduty. :)


End file.
